Odds Against
by Dizzydodo
Summary: Jim bets Uhura he can have anyone in the bar eating out of his hand by the end of the night, so of course she sics him on the hot doctor drinking himself into an early grave. Then things begin to get a little out of hand.
1. Laying the Odds

Leonard McCoy couldn't be blamed for bolting straight to the nearest bar after his latest fuck-up in the flight sim. Somehow, his argument that he was a doctor and not a pilot hadn't done much to impress his instructors. Well fuck them anyway; he'd pass it the next time around. Assuming there was a next time around.

Late nights at the tavern had become something of a habit lately, what with Jocelyn crowing about how the divorce had finally gone through, constantly comming him with some new angle to bitch about and a few choice insults to burn his ears. Two weeks since he had last spoken to his own kid, and it looked like Jocelyn might well be able to obtain sole custody and child support. Not enough that she'd taken the whole damn state of Georgia, she wouldn't rest until she'd turned Joanna against him too.

They had spoken earlier this afternoon just before his flight-sim, and didn't that woman just have the devil's own timing? Heaven knew she'd taken just about everything else; now she was trying to take his visitation rights permanently on account of his being half a continent away, and then presumably off somewhere on a ship. He'd wished her luck in the attempt, but now regretted the gesture; he could have used a little more luck himself and he'd just as soon she crashed and burned. Joanna had always been her daddy's little girl, his pride and joy; Jocelyn had no call to be meddling there, and he hoped Joanna raised Cain over it.

Yep; after all that, drinking just seemed like the most appropriate response. Which is why he was sitting in a run-down bar at half past midnight on Saturday morning when James Tiberius Kirk and his pack of devoted acolytes stumbled through the door, whooping and shouting and already calling for more booze though they looked drunk enough to begin with.

Had anyone bothered to ask Leonard McCoy what he thought of Jim Kirk at that moment, he'd probably have slurred something along the lines of "fuck off," it was his standard greeting nights like this. Privately he was thinking that the kids stumbling through those doors were a bunch of jackasses and hoping they would take their party somewhere else. Unfortunately, they had all settled at a few tables in the back, still braying like their namesakes and it looked like the servers were bringing them a few more beers to start their morning off right.

Len's glass clicked roughly against the counter as he gestured to the barkeep for another bourbon. It wouldn't be the first night he'd had to share the establishment with a few rowdy cadets, and it wouldn't be the last.

If Leonard H. McCoy had any sort of clairvoyant ability, he would have paid his tab and bolted right then, leaving his drink for any takers; being sadly lacking in the precognition department, he accepted another glass and tuned out the disturbance behind him in favor of wallowing a little more in self pity.

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Jim Kirk raised a glass with mocking solemnity, waiting until the noise died down enough for him to be heard over the din. "A toast to the clever bastard that programmed the Kobayashi Maru. May he-"

"What if it's a she or some other gender?" Gaila whispered a little too loudly, not half as sober as she thought she was. Jim shot her a quelling look before turning back to his audience. "May he enjoy this last victory."

A hearty cheer rose and Jim gracefully crumpled into a seat next to Gaila; she leaned into him, trying to catch his eyes. "You're really gonna try it again? Three times, Jim? You're insane; no one attempts it three times."

"Gimme time. I'll come up with something."

Having known Jim Kirk for two years now, intimately off and on, Gaila knew he most assuredly _would_ come up with something. She had no doubt it would be spectacular in every sense of the word, a true master-stroke. It would probably also land him in front of a disciplinary committee, but tonight wasn't the night to remind him of that; he would have plenty of time to consider that on his own and plan accordingly.

Jim scanned the table, taking in the familiar faces with the air of a benevolent king smiling on his court; of course, had anyone bothered to say as much he would have been offended by the comparison, in his mind he was a minor deity at the very least.

Gaila rolled her eyes as his gaze lit on cadet Uhura, a cocky smile spreading across his face; she was quite possibly the only one here that had managed to keep Jim Kirk from her bed, and Jim was never one for turning down a challenge.

Gaila considered warning him her room-mate's tastes were a little more exotic, but he was off before she could decide whether she should violate the promise she'd given Uhura to keep her mouth shut. It would be more fun to watch him flounder anyway; his ego had already taken a beating this morning, it would be interesting to see how he reacted if it was thrashed twice in one day.

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Jim grinned as he settled into place beside Uhura; she of the ambiguous first name, dazzling smile and talented tongue. Tonight was a lucky night, the laws of average said it must be so given how nerve-wracking the rest of the day had been. If he couldn't talk that name out of her now, he'd never hear it.

"So I was thinking, about what I'm going to do this third time around you know, and it came to me: if I knew your first name, it would be one less thing to worry about during the test."

Uhura rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her Cardassian sunrise before she turned to smile sharply at him. "Congratulations. I didn't think anyone would be foolish enough to consider going for thirds after failing so abysmally the first and second time. Somehow, you always exceed my expectations."

"I'd hate to disappoint. Speaking of, you're a little sober, aren't you? Bad form, let me get you another drink."

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Kirk?"

"No. Yes. Maybe a little? 'In vino veritas', we could get drunk and play twenty questions. It'd be fun."

"No need to be tipsy for that. Here, I'll start; how long is it going to take for you to accept that not everyone wants a piece of Jim Kirk?" She smirked, crossing one leg over another as she leaned back against the table.

Jim stumbled back playfully, pressing a hand to his heart in shock. "Uhura, you wound me. Are you suggesting there is anyone in this bar that does not want a piece of the awesomeness that is James T. Kirk?"

"More than one, I'm sure. Not everyone wants a blond, blue-eyed playboy out for a little fun."

"See, now you're just being mean. I think you're just jealous cause you don't have one of your very own. All I'm saying is, I'm available."

Uhura shook her head, scanning the bar behind her. They both knew Jim would be bitterly disappointed if she ever actually took him up on his repeated offers; he needed a friend that didn't stand for his bullshit and he had found one in Nyota Uhura. She wasn't about to tell him just how not her type he really was, but after issuing a statement as blatantly false as that last she thought he could do with having someone turn him down.

The trick was finding anyone in this starfleet hangout that would pose a challenge. To most of them, he was pretty much the patron saint of Starfleet academy and the minute he turned those gorgeous baby-blues on them they would be hooked.

Finally her eyes settled on just the man, sitting at the bar downing his drinks with a single-minded intensity. She could practically feel his "Leave me the hell alone or suffer" vibes from across the floor.

"You think everyone wants you? Anyone at all, regardless?"

"You got someone particular in mind?" He turned to follow her gaze, lighting on the object of her regard.

"Oh, Hell Yeah. How did you know about my weakness for bad boys in leather?"

"Way too much info, Kirk."

"I guess I'll just head out then. Promise of better company, no offense."

"Don't be so sure." Uhura's smile turned wicked and if Jim had been thinking with his other head he might have realized that was Cause for Concern. "There's really no point if you don't stand to lose something."

"I do. My poor ego couldn't take another hit today; it would do terrible things to my fragile psyche. Failing the 'Maru, being turned down by the prettiest lady on campus and _then_ striking out with jeans-and-leather? I'd be crushed."

"Not good enough. If you can't get him- and you won't- no sex for a month."

"Damn it, Uhura. I'm a red-blooded male with plenty of options available. No sex for a week is torture, and you want to make it a month? I'll surely perish."

"I don't suppose it matters since you're so sure you can't fail this one."

"It's the principle!"

Uhura shrugged, "Fine, if you're worried-"

"I win and I get your name." Right where she wanted him.

"I'll tell you my life's story, but only if you can trip him into your bed."

"Or the nearest available surface, or surfaces?"

Uhura waved a careless hand, "Details. You know what I mean. In fact, I'll even give you a hand up. That's Leonard McCoy, third year Starfleet medical student. I've heard he's having some trouble passing his pre-reqs."

"Met him once. On the shuttle." Kirk added, seeing her confusion. "Security knocked him out when he wouldn't buckle up. Neatest left hook I've ever seen. I didn't even recognize him; gotta say, he cleans up well."

"Are you stalling, Kirk?"

"Nope. Already gone." Kirk snatched the empty glass from her hand, artfully dodging her half-hearted attempts to snatch it back.

"You're just going to leave me here with your adoring fans?"

Jim glanced to the other cadets, already deep in their cups and flushed with good spirits. "I think you can make do without me. I'll see you tomorrow, don't expect me back."

"We'll see."

She waited until Kirk was halfway across the room before she hurried over to tell Gaila all the dirty details. Uhura was generally known for her discretion, but some things were just too good not to share.

Of course if Gaila knew it meant most of campus would know by Monday, but that was a sacrifice Uhura was willing to make.

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Leonard didn't bother glancing up when some kid hopped onto the stool beside him, tapping his glass pointedly until it caught the barkeep's attention; had to be one of the loud cadets, that part of the room had fallen silent a moment ago.

"I'll have whatever he's having." Leonard rolled his eyes; that wasn't a disaster in the making at all. Kid could get knocked on his ass by some concoction he wasn't expecting. Leonard swallowed the last drop of his own drink, pushing the glass away with what little was left of his self-control. It wasn't his habit to lose track of how much he'd had, but everything was blurring together tonight, and while he wasn't sure what number that glass had been, he was certain it was at least one too many. Probably several, which was a shame because he really didn't feel quite drunk enough to catch any sleep tonight.

As he pushed himself away from the bar the kid spoke again, and Leonard began to get the uncomfortable feeling that he was meant to be second half of this conversation.

"Are we leaving already? I just got here, and shouldn't you buy me dinner first? I feel so used."

Leonard frowned, the words just piercing his fogged brain. He turned slightly to see which unfortunate had decided to plague him tonight and blanched: Jim Kirk, the devil himself, didn't he belong somewhere in the center ring of that circus in the back? Glancing down the bar he could see that he was definitely the only one Kirk could possibly be addressing; damn, this day just kept getting better and better. Best not to answer him, or he might well become attached like some stray mutt begging for attention.

"Ouch. That hurt; just a little, though." Jim seemed to wilt in his seat before perking right back up again. Of course; that would have been too easy.

Leonard winced; if he was voicing his thoughts aloud this had already gone on too long and he needed to get the hell home.

"You could make it up to me by staying for another drink." Jim smiled disarmingly, running a fingertip over the rim of his glass with just a hint of a suggestive smirk playing about his lips.

"No thanks, kid. I'm tapping out." He owed at least that much after his unintentional comment, regardless of how common sense screeched at him to bail out before all was lost.

Melodramatic? Not at all, Len assured himself. He turned a little too quickly and stumbled over his own feet, wondering when exactly the floor had decided to tilt. Yes, his binge would definitely be better concluded in the privacy of his own dorm room where he wouldn't have to worry about getting home afterward. It might even be time to call it off and start hydrating; the hangover for this one was going to be a son of a bitch unless he could get his hands on a hypospray.

"Hey, no offense here, doc, but you're not looking too good." No offense was taken, the only thing Leonard heard was that 'doc', which beggared the question of how Jim Kirk, academy golden boy, knew anything about him.

"Doc?" Len murmured, turning back to really look at the kid for the first time. Any hint of playfulness had vanished from Kirk's expression to be replaced with something that resembled genuine concern.

"Doctor Leonard McCoy, right? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you were some kind of Super Surgeon, developed a neural tissue grafting procedure?"

It was more than a little alarming to think Jim Kirk knew anything about him at all, even if it was a matter of public record and fairly well-known. Pike's pet was supposed to be a playboy of the highest order; why should he know anything at all about… anything?

"I need to go." He was going to vomit everywhere, and soon; Leonard hurried for the door, hoping he could make it even that far. When had it got this bad? If he made it home in one piece he'd never drink again. Well, he'd wait for next weekend at least and maybe down a few glasses of water before heading out.

He might even have managed to make it outside with his dignity intact if Kirk hadn't tried to prop him up and hold him steady. If Leonard hadn't been far too drunk and already ill, he might have appreciated the gesture, as it was there was nothing he could do save double over and throw up all over what appeared to be a very good pair of shoes. Leonard squinted just to be sure. Yes, those had been very nice shoes, and probably never would be again.

"Fuck. I might have thrown up on you."

From somewhere above Len could hear a long-suffering sigh and a few murmured words; the next moment a cool glass of water was pressed into his hands. He lifted his head cautiously, waiting for the residual dizziness cleared before he took a sip. It nearly sent his stomach into an upheaval again and suddenly he was very grateful for another body to lean against.

"You want to take this outside?" Kirk's flirtatious tone was back in force, and Len very nearly turned him down for that reason alone, but he would just as soon be out of here before he lost what was left of his supper.

Come to it, had he even eaten supper? Lunch? He cast back, looking for a memory of his last meal. A bowl of grits this morning for luck just before he had spoken with Jocelyn. That explained entirely too much.

"Out." Was about all he could say without worrying that something else would come up with it, fortunately Kirk seemed to understand and cleared a path to the door.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea for Moses, naturally.

The winter air hit him like a kick in the gut, and he doubled over once more, face burning while he struggled to hold down something at least.

"You really can't hold your liquor, you know that?"

"Shut up." It was the best he could come up with on short notice, and it did the trick for a minute or two.

"Think you'll be able to make it back all right? I have a bike; wouldn't be any trouble to-"

Leonard turned a glare on him that had been known to send the bravest of men scrambling for cover.

Kirk only lifted his hands in a placating manner. "You need to get home; I have a way of getting home."

"I'd rather not end up with my brains spattered on the pavement because I was riding with some tipsy yahoo on his death-trap."

"Death-trap? She is a fine piece of machine, and who even says yahoo anymore, old man? Besides, I'm sober." Kirk looked him over pointedly, "Which is more than I can say for you."

"Damn." Was he really even considering this? If the alternative was walking back, which Len wasn't certain he could do at the moment, or waiting for a taxi, which could take well over an hour at this hour of the morning…

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"Is that a yes?" Shit; Kirk was beaming again. Jim Kirk beaming, Jim beaming, Jim Beam- Mind on the matter at hand!

"You want me to spell it?"

Jim arched an insolent brow, "Sure you could, old man? Do you even know your block and floor numbers?"

"Seventeen and none of your business."

"No way! I'm in nineteen. It's fate, Leonard. Leo. Len." Kirk wrinkled his nose in frustration, "Do you have a middle name or something?"

"Don't ask."

Kirk shrugged, "Well, it's not Tiberius. Please say it's not Tiberius 'cause that would just be too creepy."

"Are you always this talkative or do you just have it in for me?" As if to punctuate his point, Len swayed slightly, casting a nervous glance toward the bushes. Now that he had decided to climb onto that infamous cycle of Kirk's his gut was in all out rebellion again.

"Right. Shutting up."

He was talking again before Leonard even had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief. "So how'd you know about James?"

"James?" He couldn't hardly keep a thought in his head, but short of Kirk himself he didn't know any James.

"My bike." Kirk gave him a look that said clearly he was supposed to have known this.

"My god, you actually named it for yourself? Could you be any more narsh- nar-." He drew a breath, "Vain?"

Kirk giggled. He actually giggled. "Big words not coming so easy now? We better get a move on. I do not envy you your hangover tomorrow morning. Seriously though, it's a little creepy that you actually know that much about me. Stalking is so not sexy, and there's only so much I can forgive for tight jeans and that leather jacket."

"James T. Kirk." Leonard didn't bother trying to work his mouth around 'Tiberius'; he knew a lost cause when he met one. "Chris Pike's recruit. Parked your damn bike on the roof of the convocation hall last year."

"I'd actually forgotten about that one. Good a whole week before I paid for my own drinks."

"Failed the 'Maru for the second time this mornin'."

Kirk stopped and Leonard was hard pressed to keep from tripping into him; his eyes just felt too heavy to be open at this hour. Looked like he might actually get some rest tonight.

Kirk gestured to the sleek cycle in front of him. "Not a genuine classic, but she looks like it. You probably knew that." His voice was considerably more subdued than earlier, and Len began to regret adding that last comment.

He slipped reluctantly behind Kirk, for once not making any unnecessarily abrasive remarks as he grabbed a fistful of Jim's shirt.

"Look, kid. E'ryone fails it; heard someone talking 'bout it when I got out of my basic sim." Leonard snorted, "Failed that, if you b'lieve it."

He winced when the engine roared to life. No going back now; might have been smarter not to taunt his ride home. Joce had always said he'd cut his own throat with that sharp tongue one day, by which he took her to mean _she_ would cut his throat if he didn't apologize every now and again.

No Joce, not now. If Kirk ended up killing them both her face would _not_ be the last image in his head.

"Lucky for you, I was expecting company tonight. Even brought a second helmet."

Leonard fumbled clumsily with the straps, wondering just when his talented hands had decided to fail him. Kirk waited until he latched onto his shirt again before putting it into gear.

For his part, Leonard prayed harder during that twenty minute ride than he ever had in med school.

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Jim made an honest effort to keep his eyes on the road, but every now and again he would find himself taking turns a little too fast or weaving a tad too close to the other side of the road. Leonard gave a pretty good indication whenever he was doing either the former or the latter; a clenched fist in his shirt here, a shouted expletive right down his ear there.

Between failing the Kobayashi Maru, missing out on the festivities in his honor and bracing for another meeting with Pike Monday morning he really wasn't at the top of his game.

Captain Pike was a busy man, but Jim was convinced their charming little tete-a-tete was scheduled Monday morning for the sole purpose of ensuring he wouldn't get wasted Sunday night.

Jim could have told him no such precautions were needed; if he was going to challenge the test again then he needed to win. Preparation was key; just what he needed to prepare for, Jim wasn't sure. How he was going to beat an unbeatable computer he didn't know, but there had to be a way; there was no such thing as a no-win scenario regardless of what his instructors said to the contrary.

Speaking of no-win; it looked like he'd be going at least another month without learning the lovely Uhura's first name. A month without sex too. A wiser man might have thought that would give him a little extra leeway for his studies.

Jim prided himself on being clever rather than wise, and while he wasn't about to push Leonard tonight, having completely botched the first attempt with his ham-handed tactics, he found he wouldn't object too much to deepening the acquaintance. 'Glutton for punishment' might as well be a synonym for James Kirk, but grouchy drunk or not Leonard McCoy was going places; more importantly, it looked like he had come from as fucked up a place as Jim had, and that in itself made him interesting.

They were really going to have to do something about that name though; he couldn't keep calling the man _Leonard_. 'Leonard' was that science whiz with the glasses that was always getting bullied while he stood there and took it quietly until a teacher took pity and helped him out.

Leonard _McCoy_ however, looked more like that kid that waded into the fray of bullies and kicked everyone's ass until he was dragged away shouting pithy insults at the top of his lungs.

Jim thought he could use a good friend like that, and if he could convince Uhura to stretch the bet out a little longer so much the better; friends with benefits would be a major plus. The trick would be convincing Leonard of that.

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This is my first Star Trek fic, concrit is always greatly appreciated!


	2. Terms Decided

"Lunatic! Sheer luck you din't kill us! You seen wha's left of idiots gettin' creamed on these things?"

"Your accent's showing, Leo." He could really get used to that drawl, even accented as it was with the influence of alcohol. Jim couldn't help but be impressed that he was still capable of expressing a coherent thought.

"I'll give you a hint: cream; jus' a smear on the pavement 'f it's a bad day. Fractures, head injuries, fucking comas. Not uncommon, ace, and those are the damn lucky ones!"

Jim grinned, "Ace? I like it."

"Y'would." Leonard groaned, anger leaving him as fast as it had come. Tired as he was, maintaining the proper level of righteous fury was probably a little difficult, even if it was his normal state of affairs.

He pushed off the bike, ignoring Jim's outstretched hand in favor of steadying himself, carefully testing his legs for balance before he put some distance between them.

"Starin' death in the face does have a way of soberin' a man." He muttered softly, glaring once more just for good measure.

Jim shrugged, "We're here in one piece aren't we? Not so much as a concussion between us."

Leonard turned toward his dorm quickly enough that he was forced to pause and regain his balance; fortunately he didn't notice Jim's hand hovering behind him in case it was needed. He might well have ripped it off in his temper if he had thought someone was pandering to him.

Having had a few of these binges himself, Jim knew precisely how much it could fuck with vision and balance; he also knew it could be humiliating to accept help from even the closest of friends in one of these fits. Or it would be if he had half an ounce of shame to spare, he'd traded it all in for boldness years ago. Leonard McCoy however, seemed a stickler for appearances.

Which led him to the question of what McCoy had been doing besides drowning himself in drink this fine night. Talented doctor with a name already made for himself in the civilian world, promise of a good position in Starfleet, he had the admiration of his peers and the respect of his superiors, so what reason could he possibly have for wanting to get wasted alone on a Friday night?

Jim realized he had opened his mouth to ask and wisely shut it again. McCoy was the sort who would appreciate a certain bluntness of expression; he was also the sort that wouldn't appreciate unnecessary questions, and being a stranger, any question Jim asked would pretty much be unnecessary and unwanted.

Besides, "What was a hot doctor like you doing in a dive like that" was a little too straightforward, even if it was a tried and true classic.

"What th'hell are you following me for?"

Jim bit back the characteristically insolent response that first rose to his lips, offering the truth instead. "You're a little unsteady there, I'm just making sure you get to the lift." And then, because he couldn't seem to help himself. "And I promised your daddy I'd have you home before midnight."

Leonard snarled and Jim skipped back swiftly, grinning widely at McCoy's none too friendly gaze. Jim couldn't quite decipher all that he'd snapped in response, but he managed to decode a great deal of profanity and a few suggestions as to what he could do with himself rather than following Len home. Jim was certain some of those weren't anatomically possible, but there were a few he was willing to try.

Jim watched with interest while Leonard keyed in a pass code, not seeming to care whether Jim saw it or not. Jim committed it to memory, just in case.

A brilliant idea struck him then, as they so often did at inopportune moments; Jim hurried through the door before Leonard could close it and put a premature end to his plans.

"You said you failed a basic sim today. I could tutor you. I am the _boss_ of simulations."

Leonard shook his head briskly, obviously trying to follow the progression of Jim's thoughts. If Gaila were here, she would have told him it was a lost cause; conversations with Jim Kirk were always an adventure. They could begin with something so mundane as a discussion of the day's lecture topics and end on a debate centering around the probability of ever encountering an illogical vulcan.

About as likely as finding a unicorn, Gaila had insisted. Jim maintained that only virgins could see unicorns; Chekov was their only hope, though not for much longer if-

"No thanks, kid. I get the feeling you might be more than I could handle."

"I really wouldn't mind. You handling me, that is." Leonard snorted with disgust, not glancing back even once as he made his way to the lift. Jim began to think it might be possible he had overplayed his hand yet again. Was it really his fault that McCoy had such an expressive face? How many varieties of annoyance could there be anyway? If he stuck to McCoy long enough he was sure to find out. Science would thank him after he published his crowning work, "The Many Expressions of Leonard McCoy: Being a Description of Every Possible Combination of Annoyance and Frustration."

"I'm top of my class."

"Good for you." Leonard stepped in, tapping his floor quickly though his arm braced the door open. "Thanks for the lift, kid." He eyed his surroundings and winced at the pun. "I appreciate it."

"You know how to find me, if you change your mind. Can't be too careful with those pre-reqs" The door slid shut before he could make an ass of himself any further.

Whether Leonard McCoy intended to seek him out or not, Kirk had already decided this would not be their last meeting. There was work to do before he could turn in for the night: tests to study for, Uhura to bother, and one mysterious middle name to figure out.

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With only a couple hours left until dawn, Gaila and Uhura stumbled into their shared quarters still laughing companionably over one last joke. It probably didn't deserve quite this much merriment, but hours of celebration coupled with free-flowing drinks had them both in a scintillating mood. Until Uhura discovered precisely what was waiting for them.

James Kirk lay sprawled on her bed, PADD in hand; of course he was in _her_ bed, why ever should he be in Gaila's? It wasn't like he was practically there every other weekend, and certainly Gaila's bed lacked that neat, made-up quality that made Uhura's so inviting. Why shouldn't he prop his boots on her crisp, white sheets and-

"What the hell are you doing here, Kirk?"

Jim held up a finger in a hushing motion and Uhura's temper ratcheted up a notch when she instinctively fell silent. Gaila skipped obliviously ahead, shoving Jim aside until she could perch on the edge of the bed. Her eyes widened almost comically at the sight of whatever he had pulled up on the screen.

"James Kirk. You didn't!" It was less a rebuke and more an awed request for clarification.

"I did. I really did." His shit-eating grin was fully in place, and Gaila's lips were turning up in an answering smirk. "You could have asked for my help; I'm always willing to lend a hand for a good cause."

"Does charming the pants off another cadet count as a worthy cause?"

"None higher." She chirped.

Uhura's eyes narrowed as she stalked across the room, heels clicking loudly on the hard floor. Kirk winced every time her heels connected, probably remembering other incidents where they had connected with his toes. She was smiling again by the time she had covered the small distance between them, but it was not a comforting smile.

"Dr. McCoy looked a little worse for wear by the time you two left." Her tone sharpened, "I hope you didn't take advantage."

"Okay first off, he's a grown man and I bet he knows exactly what he wants. Secondly, why are you assuming _I _would be the one taking advantage? With that surly attitude and the "you can't fix me" vibes pouring off him he clearly has an edge up over yours truly; thirdly, I need an extension."

"An extension?"

"On our wager." Kirk winked surreptitiously; Gaila seemed to wilt. "So you didn't peel him out of his pants? I laid credits on that." She sighed dramatically, flopping back onto Uhura's mathematically arranged pillows.

"Wait a minute, what the fuck? You told Gaila? Who else?"

Uhura settled gingerly on the edge of Gaila's bed, trying desperately not to think of what might be lurking there even now. She couldn't keep the edge from her smug grin.

"I think you should ask her."

Jim paled. "Gaila?"

"Just a few friends. You know, someone here and there." Gaila waved a limp hand soothingly.

Jim gradually relaxed, "So, not everyone at the bar."

"Oh definitely; they were there after all, had a chance to see the opening moves and place their bets. Only fair, really."

"Fuck."

"Did you?" Gaila twisted, putting herself almost nose-to-nose with him.

"I'm starting to wish we had."

"That _was_ the point of the bet." Uhura peeled the heels from her feet, noting Kirk's passing attention, seeing even then that it was more form than appreciation.

"I just wanted to remind you that there was no actual deadline ever placed on the bet." Jim smiled crookedly, clearly expecting her to swoon at his feet like the air-headed bimbos in his classes. She was proof positive against the Kirk charm.

"No, you cannot have until the end of eternity."

"So let me take my month of celibacy and put it toward a good cause. If I can trip him into my bed by then, I get your name. If not, you get the satisfaction of knowing I am the horniest bastard on the face on the planet after a whole month without companionship. Also, I'm afraid I'll have to start calling you Uhura Uhura; everyone deserves a first name."

Euphemisms were a fascinating linguistic phenomenon, Uhura decided. So very useful for disguising provisions in the terms of spoken agreements.

"If I agree, we're counting the companionship of your hands."

Now Kirk looked vaguely disconcerted. Uhura took a minute to savor it before delivering the death blow.

"Or any other little toys your perverted mind thinks up, Kirk."

"Come on, Uhura. That's not fair; it's not even healthy!"

"Neither is skipping class to fuck the TA while the rest of us sit around working pointless exercises."

Kirk shook his head, "Unbelievable. Is that what this is about? The curvy red-head with the pretty eyes?"

Gaila coughed delicately. "The _other_ curvy red-head with the pretty eyes?" Kirk amended quickly. "I'll never touch her again, or your other TAs, or profs or whatever. Your vengeance is diabolical."

"I want to be sure the lesson sticks."

Kirk leaned back against her headboard once more, face lighting up in victory. "So we have a deal? The bet's still on?"

"Still on for the month, no sex unless by some miracle you manage to land Dr. McCoy. Fail and you can go a month beyond that."

_Bitch_ Gaila mouthed for her eyes alone, giggling softly. Jim looked horrified, but he swallowed down his natural protests and pinned his signature cocky grin back in place.

"Done."

"Good. Now what's on the PADD?"

Jim scrambled from the bed and bolted for the door before she could intercept him.

"See you Monday; show you then!"

Gaila studiously avoided her gaze as she readied for bed; Uhura knew this wasn't going to turn out well, but try as she might to coax some telling clue from the Orion, Gaila remained unnaturally tight-lipped. That in and of itself was enough to set her on edge.

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"Lights thirty percent!" Leonard barked, wincing at the brightness of the room around him. It took him a moment to realize no amount of shouting was going to dim the lights any; sunlight was leaking through the blinds to fall straight on his too-sensitive eyes. It was a few moments more before he had gathered enough presence of mind to shout out another order to "Darken the Damn Windows for Pity's Sake."

Unfortunately, it seemed the ambiance control system had not learned to recognize profanity or common vernacular expressions even after all these years of his living in Starfleet dorms. Len decided he was of the firm opinion that Starfleet should throw something of their budget that way in order to assist their viciously hungover cadets, of which he could not possibly be the only one.

He lay back on the pillow, crushing his palms into his bleary eyes and rubbing vigorously. Coffee. He needed coffee and something for the regiment of armor-clad troops that was marching through his head right now. Way too late to consider a hypo; it couldn't work any faster than water at this point and he was an old hand at this business anyway.

Leonard twisted out of the bed, sheets tangling around his sock-clad feet until he nearly fell to the floor. Wonderful. Now where the hell were his boots and jacket? Blearily he scanned the room until his eyes lighted on a small pile of folded clothing lying near the door.

Sober enough to know better than to throw his clothes every which way, drunk enough that he had actually folded them the same way Jocelyn had done. Not bad, but he was going to have to shove those clothes into the deepest recesses of his closet after he had washed them thoroughly. Even half a continent away she still found a way to make her presence felt.

Leonard padded to the kitchen, not bothering to pull anything on; he had no intention of stepping out of this room until his next shift in the infirmary if he could help it.

Unfortunately, it was not to be. By the time he had forced a little toast and water down his gullet there was a message waiting for him.

Jocelyn. Again. After she had promised to leave him alone at least for the week following their last bout; she had always been awful about keeping her vows, Len thought bitterly.

Damned if he was going to return her call as he was now. The bitch could wait until he'd had a shower and cleaned up a bit; he wasn't about to show her any weakness she might later exploit. He took especial care with his grooming, seeing to it that not so much as a speck of stubble remained, that his hair was tamed as much as it could be with brushes and gel and his clothes looked at least somewhat professional. Greeting her in cadet reds would be overdoing it, but jeans were a little too informal for the occasion; Jocelyn always did have a weakness for well-dressed men, his lips twisted into a self-mocking smile.

The face that greeted him when he returned her comm was not the one he had been expecting, but it was infinitely more welcome. Joanna scowled darkly at him, hazel eyes bright with suppressed emotion. Those eyes were his, but that glare was uniquely her mother's.

"You haven't talked to me in forever!" Straight to business, as always; she looked him over critically, doubtless seeing that his shirt was a little too large and the hem slightly frayed. Her frown deepened but he could see tears threatening, and as always it broke his heart. Leonard wrestled valiantly with his conscience for a few seconds, wanting badly to tell her that her mother was a Bitch and his identification code was blocked so that she could call at her whim, but he must wait on her permission to return the favor.

Damn it all, Jo was eight years old and this wasn't any more fair to her than it was to him. No harm in letting her love her mother even if he couldn't.

"Sorry, baby doll. I've been busy; they work me hard here." He tried to smile, but his face felt too tight and that headache was coming back full force.

Joanna raised a brow in blatant mimicry of his skeptical expression; she was studying something just beyond his view with a singularly intent expression. "Mama has you blocked on here."

"That too." Leonard conceded; no use lying to the kid, especially since she had figured it out for herself. He couldn't quite keep the pride from his now genuine smile.

Jo had a way of cutting through bullshit, even when it was well-meant. He remembered the argument when Jocelyn had decided to fill the kid's head with visions of reindeer and Santa Claus. Why should Jo need a fantasy to justify her good behavior? Why couldn't she just make a little trouble?

Fantasy was good for the imagination, Jocelyn had countered; did he really want to deprive his only child of a culturally significant delusion? Leonard had finally protested that it was as though all the children in the world had been dosed with a hallucinogenic compound and Joanna was one of the few immune to its effects; did she really want to compromise Jo's sanity by inducing a reaction?

That had earned him nearly a week on the couch, but it had all been a moot point anyway because by the time Joanna was five she had flatly refused to sit on "The Fat Man's" lap, even when Joss had tried to bribe her with sweets. Len had stubbornly encouraged Jo's endless questions and contrariness ever since.

Common sense, he called it; 'pigheadedness' said Joss.

"You're not listening!"

"Course I am, Jojo. Just a little tired 's all."

"What'd I say?"

Len floundered for a split second, thoughts moving at roughly the speed of molasses on a cold day. "You're going to unblock me." He tried to make it a statement rather than a question, but Jo's expression was dubious as ever. He wondered when she had become so distrusting and if he'd maybe encouraged her early efforts a little too much.

Jo pursed her lips, nodding brusquely. "Mama works Monday through Thursday; she leaves me here-"

"Alone?" Leonard snapped, furious once more.

"With Gram." Jo rolled her eyes, leaving him in no doubt as to who was watching whom, nevertheless he relaxed slightly.

"She says you're not coming home." And those tears were gathering again; he was getting a little misty himself and had to blink quickly to clear his eyes. A grown man had no call to be crying in front of his little girl, or so he told himself.

"Not yet, baby-"

"Don't call me that. 'M not a baby." She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes quickly, daring him to comment on it. Being a wise man, Leonard held his tongue.

"Didn't think you were; your mama tells me you're top of your classes."

Joanna nodded proudly, successfully distracted.

"Block off the old chip."

"Joanna McCoy! Get down here or we'll be late."

Matching expressions of dismay crossed their faces; Joanna glanced to the doorway behind her and quickly back, kissing her hand and placing it against the screen gently. It looked like she was bound to be every bit as paranoid as he was, if not more. Block off the old chip indeed.

"We'll talk sometimes, right?" She whispered, conscious of her mother's footsteps ascending the stairs.

"Yeah, we will." Len pressed a matching kiss to the screen as she signed off, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more.

And newly determined to graduate this academy so he could see her on leave one last time before he got his assignment; maybe if he could straighten out his bad run they would give him his choice of posts and he could pick something dirtside. Much as he hated to admit it, Jim Kirk's offer of help suddenly seemed the lesser of all evils, God help him.

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I do have a couple more chapters of this written, but I'm taking the time to clean up and arrange the formatting before I post. Updates should be daily for a couple days, though after that no promises. Somehow this one has managed to grow far past what I originally expected. :)


	3. The Game Begins

Jim lingered a moment longer outside Uhura's room, gazing out across campus at some unseen point in the distance. He knew Uhura wouldn't get much sleep tonight, too busy fretting over what he had been doing that had Gaila so intrigued. Jim Kirk had been known to work a little magic with a padd and an unsecured access point before, but he did his best work with Gaila; she was all subtlety where his gestures tended to be… grandiose and attention-grabbing. He would just as soon these activities passed unnoticed for now, and Gaila would see to it.

Poor Uhura indeed, she didn't know the company she kept half as well as she thought.

Jim took off at a jog when he heard the steady thump of footprints rounding the building; it would mean trouble if he were caught at the girl's dorm. One would think that Starfleet would be progressive enough to try a co-ed dorm, unfortunately Jim knew it was cadets like him that ensured that would never happen.

Rumors of his exploits were greatly exaggerated; sure there had been something with the cute andorian, and his tastes weren't restricted solely to the humanoid lifeforms, and maybe he had tried a bit of everything last break- he really couldn't be sure, the whole weekend was a bit of a blur after they opened the brandy- but, Jim assured himself, he could not possibly have worked his way through half the Starfleet cadets. Some of them weren't even legal, and a few of them… well, he would have preferred the farm animals Uhura had once accused him of screwing.

Too busy tallying up a more likely percentage, Kirk had to move quickly to dodge another campus patrol. Damn but they were out in force tonight; almost like they were gunning for him. With that thought in mind he abandoned his idle musings, tucking them away for future moments of boredom and booked it back to his room; there was still a hefty amount of research to do. His studying for the Kobayashi Maru- if it could be called studying- was coming along remarkably well. He owed himself a treat, and he knew just what he wanted; a middle name would be a decent place to start.

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It took Jim a few minutes to realize that the incessant pounding that had been ringing in his ears was not his heartbeat, but rather some jackass hammering away at his door like the fate of the world hung in the balance.

He rolled over slowly, blinked incredulously at his bedside alarm; nine in the freaking morning, and he'd just crawled into bed around seven fifteen.

"Fair warning, Gaila; I will kick your ass in all things academic for the rest of the semester if this is not a very convincing emergency." He knew very well that he would _only_ kick her ass academically; even cupcake, ever the baffled knight in shining armor, conceded she knew her way around a brawl.

Jim leapt from the bed with more speed than grace, ambling to the door in his boxers. She probably wanted to mooch some breakfast or something, Uhura was a light sleeper and woe betide the poor fool that woke her before noon after a night of steady drinking.

There was a brief lull in the frantic knocking, but it soon resumed even louder than before if that were possible. If she woke his whole floor so she could steal his cereal it wouldn't go well for either of them.

Jim stabbed at the keypad viciously, not even waiting for the door to open fully before he began his Just Tirade. "I swear by all that is holy, Gaila, you had better be dead, dying or-"

"Not Gaila. Not dying, and for god's sake man, put on some clothes!"

Jim snapped instantly to attention, staring in open-mouthed shock at his unexpected guest. "McCoy." He muttered stupidly.

"Doctor McCoy, and we need to talk."

"Come on in, mi casa es su casa…" Jim glanced down at his boxers; fuck, he would be wearing the starships, and evidently his body had not received the message that Leonard was off limits until further notice.

Leonard strode in like he owned the place, taking in his surroundings with a single appraising glance; he was shaking his head slowly, speaking so softly Jim couldn't make out a word and he probably wasn't meant to.

Suddenly his spacious room felt a lot smaller, between their egos it was a wonder both of them could share the space he supposed.

"So, I take it-"

"Feel free to get dressed any time."

"My room, my rules." He was moving for his wardrobe even as he said it, no use giving the doctor any further confirmation of his immaturity- that way failure would lie.

"Hey, you want anything to eat? I just woke up and I'm a little starved."

McCoy snorted, "No such thing as being 'a little starved' and I just ate." He softened slightly, "I could use a coffee, if you're making."

"Coffee. Yeah, coffee's great." Unfortunately, his normal roguish charm and sparkling wit hadn't come on line yet. So much for a memorable second impression. He ducked into a corner to change, sensing that this was not the time to tease; Leonard looked grim, Kirk had seen happier expressions on cadets just finishing the 'Maru for the first time and that boded nothing good.

As he yanked his pants on he could hear Len rummaging around. "Never mind, I've got it. Holy hell, Jim, how long's it been since you washed this thing? It's fowl!"

Jim took a moment to appreciate the sound of his name in McCoy's rough voice before he finally responded with an elegant shrug the doctor probably wouldn't see anyway.

By the time he had yanked a battered shirt over his head the hot water was already boiling and McCoy was searching his cupboard for mugs.

"To your left and down one."

Jim leaned against the counter, "So now that the coffee's brewing, what can I do you for?" He smiled lazily.

It took McCoy a long minute to respond, "D'you mean what you said about tutoring me?"

Jim had to fight to keep from breaking out into an impromptu victory dance, as it was his smile grew to frankly alarming proportions, threatening to split his face in two. "Absolutely. When do you want to start?"

Leonard blinked in surprise, eyeing Jim with something approaching suspicion. What? Was he supposed to play hard to get? It was a little late for that.

"Just like that? No catch? Nothing wrong with a little quid pro quo." Leonard fixed him with a steady stare.

"I need another cadet for my bridge crew the next time I take the Kobayashi Maru; if you agree to fill that spot contingent upon your passing that sim then I'll show you everything you need to know.

McCoy reached for the coffee pot, pouring a little into each mug. The movement was unaffectedly graceful and Jim couldn't help but admire his poise; normally he burned himself at least twice just trying to prepare the bitter brew.

"Is Monday too soon?" Perfect timing, in fact, but Kirk kept his face straight with effort.

"I have an appointment in the morning and classes in the afternoon; Monday evening good for you?" He conveniently neglected to mention that during his information recon this morning he might have switched up his timetable just a little to get them in the same self-defense class. Some latent instinct of self-preservation warned him not to breathe so much as a hint of what he'd been up to.

"Done." McCoy sighed deeply, "I've got to try, at least."

Kirk couldn't help but feel that he was eavesdropping on a far more intimate conversation than the one they were engaged in, so he kept his eyes down and his mouth shut except when he was filling it with coffee.

Leonard shook himself briskly, "Thought you said you were starving, aren't you goin' to eat?"

"The coffee's working well enough. I'll catch lunch at the caf later."

"Damn it, Jim. Breakfast is important whether you feel like eating it or not. I'm getting out of here, you make yourself something filling, and stay away from all the empty carbs and sugars lining your cupboard space. Better to use the damn replicator if you're going to take that route."

"Are you already mothering me, Horatio?" No, that name didn't fit quite right either, but it's effect was immediate and notable. Len's face paled first with surprise then flushed puce with anger.

"Don't say it-" he began, but Jim cut him off. "It fits you in a weird way, old family name?"

"Yes." Leonard hissed.

"Pity, I was hoping it might be a reference to Horatio Hornblower or something." Jim shrugged, "Not quite what I'm looking for, but it's a start."

"A start on what?" McCoy was sucking on his bottom lip in a way that suggested barely contained violence. Anger had seldom looked so sexy.

"Monday evening, six o-clock work for you? I'll drop by around then. You can take the coffee with you; I need to study and you're a little distracting, try reading up on your notes before I come by."

Jim herded him toward the door as he spoke, not even pausing to draw a breath between pronouncements. By the time Leonard realized he hadn't received an answer he was already standing alone in the hallway, door closed solidly behind him.

The damn kid was a menace, but if he could help at all then he was worth whatever trouble came with him.

Leonard grimaced in disgust; today was the last day Kirk would ever get to call him Horatio, that at least was non-negotiable.

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Jim leaned back against his door, grinning widely at the ceiling. Operation Trip-McCoy-Into-The-Nearest-Bed had finally begun and was promising to be far more challenging than he had expected. Better yet, Leonard seemed like exactly the sort who would leave it at that and still call him friend afterward. In Jim's experience, those were the very best friends. This was going to be one hell of a friendship. Visions of galactic conquest danced in his head as Jim made his to-do list for the year. Funny how it all came together after twenty minutes conversation.

Step one: Make friends, have great sex, and finally get Uhura's name already.

Step Two: Graduate and claim the Enterprise as his own; it should be finished by then and he had already found his medical and communications officers.

Step Three: Fill the rest of the positions and proceed to be the most awesome crew in the recorded history of Starfleet.

By the time Jim had emerged from his shower he had added a couple more names to his list of worthy crew-members and decided that Saturday was a great day for an impromptu rugby match. If Pike was going to drag him into his office first thing in the morning for crimes he hadn't even committed yet it was his right, nay, his sacred duty, to come bearing tales.

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"Dr. McCoy. There's a cadet in room seventy requesting you specifically."

Leonard drew a deep breath, counted down from three before releasing it again.

"Does it have a name?"

Christine didn't so much as bat an eyelash at his harsh tone. If he could go back and do it all again he'd marry this woman for her competence.

"Kirk, James T."

"Son of a Bitch. Of course he's behind this."

Yes, the advent of Jim Kirk in Starfleet medical made a terrifying amount of sense. Dozens of cadets admitted with everything from minor abrasions to more serious fractures, medical cadets called in on Saturday to deal with the unexpected numbers and _of course_ Kirk was behind it. From now on every time he thought the universe was picking on him specifically he'd just look for Kirk's hand in the mess.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Chapel was carefully hiding a smirk, eyes disarmingly wide and clear.

"No, there's going to be a lot of paperwork around this incident. I think you should get a start on it." That was enough to wipe the smile from her face and restore one to his.

"Sadist." Christine snorted, "I'll set it aside for you to sign later."

"Thanks."

Leonard hurried to Jim's room, shoving past the privacy curtain so violently he nearly ripped it from its track.

"I knew it was you. I had a premonition the minute they called me in. You had better be some kind of gifted teacher, because I tell you, kid, you are more trouble than-"

"Are you still hung over, Len? I mean, I've heard it's harder to bounce back the older you get and- Ouch! What the hell are you doing?"

"Your chart says you're here with multiple abrasions and contusions. I am examining the area for any other injuries."

"I think you're enjoying it a little too much. Wicked sawbones."

Leonard glared at him, gentling his touch somewhat. "You want to tell me what happened and why you felt the need to come to the infirmary for something as minor as this? I see nothing here that couldn't be fixed with judicious application of soap and warm water."

Kirk's face twisted, "Commander Spock wanted to collect the names of all cadets involved in a campus-wide rugby match."

Leonard groaned, "Campus-wide rugby match" indeed. In common parlance, an occasion for every cadet to whale on their rivals without fear of consequences.

"So he rounded everyone up and sent us all here where med staff could take our names and years. There are a few that might actually need the help." Jim winced, "I'm pretty sure Daniels sprained his wrist on that last pass, and ghuntu- I think that's it. My tongue doesn't do those kind of acrobatics, that's why we have Uhura- was kind of pinned under a seething mass of bodies. With six balls in play-"

"Six?" McCoy hissed.

Kirk glared at him reproachfully, "With six balls in play I couldn't keep track of everyone. Don't look at me like that, it's an informal game, rules need not apply. Oh, and then Cupcake goes and decides the library grounds are as good a place as any for setting up another game-"

"Damn it, Jim!"

"Don't poke there, ham-handed sawbones!" Jim's eyes widened impossibly, and a smile spread across his face again.

"Sawbones. That's it. You're a genius, and I forgive you for being ham-handed and abrupt."

"What the-"

"Bones. It's perfect. I'm sure you've got _my_ name down already and I've told you my part of the story, so I'll just excuse myself and leave you to the desperate." Jim clapped him on the shoulder hard enough that he staggered, "I do not envy you and your colleagues the report on this one, Bones. Not sure which of us is worse off, but I'd lay credits to me; Pike is going to murder me for this one."

"You tell him to save something for me." McCoy snarled. "And you can keep the juvenile nickname."

"Whatever you say, Bones." Jim scurried out before Leonard could throw more than a sharp glance his way.

_Spock_. McCoy made a note to remember the name, clearly the man had no regard for anyone not on the command track. Leonard resolved to make his reports as clinical and dry as possible, and have Chapel put his batch into the care of Commander Spock.

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Captain Pike glanced up as the door to his office hissed open and Kirk sauntered in; the look on Jim's face instantly put him on the alert. For eight AM on a Monday morning, Kirk was looking entirely too chipper- satisfied, even. In his experience, that was rarely a good thing.

"Chris." Kirk dipped his head respectfully despite his casual address. Pike was tempted to set him extra duties as a penance, but knew it would do little good; James had been fairly well behaved this past month, it must be agony for him.

"Cadet." There was no mistaking the edge in his tone; Pike hoped Jim would take the hint and not press any harder. Jim looked almost disappointed; did he want to be stuck on cleaning duty forever? He just might get his wish after this last stunt.

"It looks like you had fun this weekend; drinking with friends, starting a rugby match that somehow managed to spill over into city limits… accessing files that do not pertain to you."

"Studying mostly, but why are you talking about this weekend? We've had this appointment booked since Wednesday, so what am I really here for?" Jim grinned, seeming enormously pleased with himself- and why shouldn't he be? Starfleet's systems were some of the best and he had waltzed through every safeguard in a matter of hours.

"Studying? Were you planning a career in the medical profession, cadet Kirk?"

"I've got nothing particularly _against _the med cadets, but I won't be joining them anytime soon."

"Then what is your interest in cadet McCoy?"

"He knows my middle name."

Pike gritted his teeth, focused on keeping his tone even. "And what does that have to do with your violation of his privacy?"

"I didn't know his. Like I said, studying."

"You've just failed the Kobayashi Maru for the second time, Kirk. I hear you're petitioning to take it again; what the hell are you studying if not that?"

"I'm taking sort of a roundabout path. I want McCoy for my bridge."

"He's failed his basic flight sims one too many times-"

"Second time doesn't count. He didn't actually finish; cited undue emotional strain unrelated to the task at hand. According to regulations-"

"I know the regs, Kirk. Better than you, in fact."

"I could argue that, sir. Good to know how far you can push before you're actually violating anything in the books." Kirk grinned, "I am well acquainted with every subsection."

"You think you're the first cadet to make a career out of partying and juvenile pranks?" Pike made a mental note to open his own file for Kirk one day; he might learn a trick or two.

"Not the first, but the best."

And once again, Kirk had managed to distract him from the topic at hand. He had a talent for it, no question.

"If you want McCoy on your bridge for your next attempt he's going to have to pass that sim first."

"He will."

Pike raised a brow, "His instructors are not so optimistic." Regulations said he couldn't discuss the details of a cadet's record without approval from said cadet's adviser, and never with any of his peers. Pike counted this more of a sweeping generalization.

"Now who's violating protocol? I don't think you're allowed to discuss his record with me."

"You're not allowed to read his file either." Pike recognized the defensive tone and cut it short before Kirk pressed his advantage. "Besides, section C specifically says I may not discuss any _details _of his record. 'Details' being defined as "a small part of the whole." I assure you, there is not one of his instructors who holds out much hope for his next- and final- attempt."

Pike barely stifled a frown, Leonard McCoy was one of the best they had in medical. He was exactly the man Pike would have wanted as a doctor if everything went to hell and back, but nothing would save him if he couldn't even land a damn shuttle in a simulation.

Kirk's eyes were sharp and calculating, there was a new respect there that had not been present a minute ago. Pike couldn't help but feel a little smug, even knowing he would probably see Kirk back in his office by week's end for accessing his own files. He'd have a hell of a time; Pike had added his own personal touch to the security of his files and it would cost Kirk more than a little sleep unraveling it.

"I hope none of them put credits on it. In exchange for the assurance that he will act as a member of my crew for the duration of the next Kobayashi Maru, I am tutoring Dr. McCoy in all things flight-related."

There had to be more to it than that; better students than McCoy would gladly have lined up to volunteer their talents for Kirk's cause. He chose not to press, that only ever made Kirk stubborn.

"Good luck." Noncommittal and well-meant. There really was no other response in the face of Kirk's confidence.

"I don't need it, trust me."

Even Pike had to admit he might have a point.

"So, now that we've got the small talk out of the way, why am I really here?"

"I thought you might want to tell me."

"Was it something I did last Monday or this Saturday?"

Hell's teeth, what had he done on Saturday besides the obvious? Pike glanced once at the time. Fifteen minutes with forty-five to spare until Kirk's first class; roughly half an hour to coax a confession from him and assign duties accordingly. His superiors already thought he was far too easy on Kirk despite his best efforts to remain impartial. He could not afford to let this latest stunt pass… and if he was going to have to do this then he desperately needed coffee.

"Tell me about this Saturday, Kirk. In detail."

Kirk beamed like a child preparing for show-and-tell; Pike sincerely hoped he had nothing to show. "With pleasure, sir."

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Jim couldn't quite keep himself from humming cheerfully as he hobbled down the steps outside the administrative building. Two months teaching entry-level combat to new recruits as soon as his bruising was sufficiently healed was a small price to pay for a truly historic mash-up. He could have done without the order to report to Pike on a bi-weekly basis for the duration of the semester, but if that was all it took to secure a little extra information then he would make the most of it.

Information was the true currency of the universe after all, and he had garnered a great deal before the system had locked him out.

Leonard Horatio McCoy: late of Georgia, recently divorced, one young daughter; he was estranged from his mother and his father had long since passed on of a disease that was now curable but had been fatal at the time. In short, Leonard McCoy could use a friend, and Jim was determined to be the best friend that ever lived. Starting with their first shared class this afternoon and a few hours worth of extra-curriculars this evening.

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Yes there was another origin story for "Bones", but I decided I wouldn't get quite that cracky. Near miss, but not quite. :p


	4. Flight Sims 101

Leonard couldn't even begin to count the reasons today was going to be a bad day, but he knew down to the marrow of his bones it would be. In his right hand he carried the reports on all the significant injuries sustained during Kirk's little rugby match, the reports Christine had flatly refused to deliver after suggesting that he simply log them into the system and flag them for the attention of commander Spock since he was the one determined to make such a fuss over cadet shenanigans.

McCoy had always preferred a more personal touch himself, and a little investigation had revealed that Spock was slated for classes all day; just his luck, there was a xenophonetics class he was supposed to be teaching now. Leonard really didn't have a plan past striding into the classroom and rocking the boat a little; maybe _commander_ Spock would see how vexing it was to have a complete stranger dictating one's schedule and making extra work for all concerned.

Four 'serious' injuries out of literally hundreds of participants was pretty damn good to his way of thinking; a couple sprains, some bruised ribs and a mild concussion were all easy enough to tend and a small price to pay for getting some of that manic energy out of the cadets' collective systems. It had taken the med staff hours to piece together a coherent and semi-accurate recounting of events, and a couple hours more to see that all the participants were recorded. Jim's name had only cropped up as a mere participant, there was some sort of devoted- almost cultish- determination among the other cadets to see to it he didn't take the fall. Leonard was relieved; it would have cost him precious time if Kirk had been hauled up before a council on charges of mischief.

Len rounded the corner briskly, scanning the numbers along the wall until he found just the room he was looking for. It was a few seconds more before he was able to wipe the excited smirk from his face; wasn't every day a student had the chance to take up a legitimate complaint with a superior and he'd been chafing under the academy's strict discipline for too long now. Squaring his shoulders, Len stepped through the doors into the amphitheater beyond.

Damn. He'd been expecting a smaller, more intimate setting but there had to be at least three hundred students in here if there was one. So much for a grand confrontation. He was near enough to see Spock's head turn in his direction, did Vulcans have better hearing than their human counterparts? Figured. Another point to add to their tally of reasons why they were superior to humans.

Glancing around, he quickly located an empty seat, and of course it would be right in the center of the row. Len could hear the students whispering as he made his way down to the row and slipped past the knees of the students seated there. Idiots. If they could all move down one like they were supposed to there would be no need for all this awkward shuffling. Sitting felt like more of an accomplishment than it strictly should have despite the poisonous glares of the girls on either side of him. One quelling glance had them both turning their suddenly neutral faces away. Amateurs, glaring was an art best left to masters. One weekend in the infirmary patching up cadets after drunken brawls in town would teach them the way of it.

Leonard couldn't be sure exactly how much longer the lecture continued; it felt like an eternity to his mind. Damned if he knew the mechanics behind a voiceless velar stop, and hell if he cared. It soon became apparent he wasn't the only one that felt that way, most of the class seemed to be only half-awake, with the notable exception of a young woman up front responding to every question as though it had been posed directly to her.

To be fair, Spock was focusing more on her area of the classroom than the others. Doubtless some vulcan sixth sense that warned him no one else was paying attention, Len chuckled.

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"Doctor McCoy." Leonard started awake, sitting bolt upright and turning toward the fool that had dared to wake him. He opened his mouth to deliver a scathing rebuke and just as quickly shut it, remembering exactly where he was and his purpose for being there.

Spock hovered at the edge of the aisle- the conspicuously empty aisle- with brows lifted in a questioning expression. "Doctor McCoy, cadet Chapel informed me you had opted to deliver hard-copies of your report to me. I presume that is the file in question?" Spock gestured to the papers in his lap and Len scrambled up from the seat like it had personally wronged him.

Whatever had made him think Chapel was a competent nurse anyway? Obviously she was a trouble-maker and a turncoat, if a brilliant one. "They are, but it's not the files I wanted to deliver so much as a message."

"With respect, Doctor McCoy, I have time only to collect the necessary paperwork. My next lecture will be in twelve minutes, leaving me little more than-"

"I'll be brief. With all due_ respect_, you're not the only busy person on campus. Medical has better things to do than take names; in fact, there's a branch called _campus security_ designed specifically for that purpose. If you think cadets are a little out of hand on their off-time, try taking it to the appropriate authorities. Better yet, think of the amount of stress they're under and let them have their fun."

Looking back, Len suspected that if he had stopped there he might have come away with only a reprimand or maybe a couple extra shifts in sickbay during the week, but some inner devil made him add: "It's only _logical,_ sir."

And that was how, four hours later, Leonard McCoy found himself a reluctant student in Jim Kirk's first year combat class.

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Jim strolled across campus at a leisurely pace, with a solid five minutes to spare until first year self-defense was supposed to begin and a seven minute walk ahead of him he figured he was doing well enough that no one could complain. What were the odds of anyone actually showing up on time anyway?

Despite the monotony of morning lectures and the threat of more novice classes to teach, Jim was pretty much walking on clouds. Two hours and he'd be meeting Bones for the first of what he hoped would be many tutoring sessions. He hummed a little at the thought. Teasing images of reaching over McCoy to manipulate a control just so, whispering hints down his ear while he tried valiantly to focus on the screen in front of him…

Of course he knew it wouldn't go that way. Bones would smack his hands if he tried assisting with the controls in any way, and if he tried for a seductive whisper, Bones was every bit as likely to make scathing comments about his person, intelligence, and probably his mother as he was to return the favor. Actually, Leonard McCoy was probably too much of a gentleman to bring his mother into it. Small mercies.

Jim strode onto the East lawn and blinked to be sure he was really seeing it right. One of the figures was terribly familiar. Bones stood in the back of formation, hands clasped firmly in front of him, eyes straight ahead. As he approached, Jim thought he could hear the man's teeth grinding slowly.

Those bright hazel eyes widened dramatically when he caught sight of his erstwhile instructor, jaw dropping in surprise. Jim grinned, tipping him an almost imperceptible wink, though privately he was a little concerned. If Bones was failing his sims _and _combat pre-reqs this was going to be far more difficult than he had anticipated; Bones' position as his CMO was in serious danger, and Jim didn't care for that. He'd had _plans_, and his plans were always supposed to pan out because he was James T Kirk, dammit.

Evidently supposing his grin was for their benefit, the green recruits relaxed slightly, some offering smiles in return; Jim didn't bother correcting them, a happy class would be a productive class and a productive class meant he might be able to slip out of teaching duties sooner than expected.

Then again, hand to hand combat was definitely a full contact activity, and with Bones sharing his class he wasn't half so eager to surrender the position. This whole student/teacher thing was going to add a whole new level of complications; he welcomed the challenge.

"I'm Jim." Muffled snickers echoed through the assemblage. All right, so it had been a fairly simple and unnecessary introduction; if his name hadn't been known to these kids before they had certainly heard it after this weekend. Even Bones' expression lightened a little; Jim decided he would make it a personal goal to make the man grin before the semester was out.

"Seeing as I don't know your names, you can either chime in about now or I can make some up for you." Grins vanished almost immediately, and Bones was scowling again; Jim was rather proud of that particular name himself, "Bones" had a certain ring to it.

It wasn't five minutes before he'd forgotten every single name; such was the price of ogling Bones when he should have been paying attention, but was it really his fault that the man filled out that suit so well? Red was _definitely_ his color, might even rank a little above jeans and leather- very little. Bones only glared back sullenly, but that would change if Jim had his way, and he intended to have his way again and again where the good doctor was concerned.

It took him a few minutes to realize that no one was speaking, all the cadets were watching him expectantly and Bones was smirking again.

"Bones!" Amazing how expressive that face was. Jim wondered what expression he would make when his fingers were digging desperately into linen sheets, hips arching while he took his pleasure. He quickly reined in his baser thoughts, shoving them into a back corner of his mind to be taken out and examined later.

He could see the debate raging in every line of McCoy's face- whether he should step forward and claim the name or stay stubbornly standing in the back until Jim either hauled him forward or called him by his given name. Jim's grin widened when he came forward.

"Sir?" One dark brow lifted in mocking question, a sardonic smile hovering on his lips. There was nothing respectful in the word at all, but Jim could imagine a few other scenarios where that could quickly become his favorite word. It took a little longer to push that thought away.

"Let's start off with something simple, a take-down. You can assist me."

The wicked smile really should have tipped him off. "My pleasure."

It would be a while before Jim finally realized that Bones' pleasure was rarely his in these sort of instances.

Jim spoke while his eyes followed McCoy's progress toward him. "First rule, don't fight when you can run and don't run when you can still talk it out. Second rule, if you have to fight, make sure your enemy is down before you run like hell."

Chuckles again; Jim knew he was the wrong one to be teaching this class. His brawls were legendary for the sheer scope of their destruction, and he was accounted a lucky bastard for not being killed years ago.

Bones sauntered up casually, folding his arms across his chest and bracing his feet apart. "Round of applause for my lovely assistant?"

McCoy bit back a peevish comment, barely. He bore the quiet smattering of applause and not so quiet wolf whistles equably but his eyes said Jim was going to pay for the embarrassment. Jim hoped it would give him the incentive to put up a credible fight.

"Care to do the honors, Bones?" He moved so fast Jim couldn't track him. He was vaguely aware of Bones' leg hooking around his own, twisting into him sharply while his fist tangled in Jim's tight shirt, and then he was falling or flying- not entirely sure which. He hit the solid ground with enough of an impact to jar his teeth and knock the wind from his lungs and lay there gaping at Bones incredulously while he tried to draw precious oxygen into his uncooperative lungs.

McCoy paled with dismay, dropping to his knees besides Jim and running a cautious hand up his ribcage. "Y'were supposed t'resist, Jim." Another broad hand settled against his back, unconsciously gliding over it in soothing circles. " You're not supposed to drop that easy!"

"Hell are you doin' in a green class?" Jim wheezed, spots dancing in his vision.

Bones grimaced, "Let's talk it over later. C'mon now, you're fine. Breathe through it."

As if on cue, Jim managed to draw his first deep breath in over a minute, hiccuping softly from the strain. "You almost killed me, Bones!"

McCoy was back on his feet in a split second, offering him a hand up with an even darker scowl on his face. Jim liked what that pout did to his lips- damn it, an erection was the last thing he needed right now.

"You'll live, infant. Get up." Jim took his hand, fought to keep his head from spinning as Bones yanked him mercilessly to his feet and he stumbled in the effort to catch himself.

Years later, Leonard would hear Kirk confessing to Christopher Pike that he'd literally fallen head over heels for the doctor at that moment, that McCoy had knocked the breath right out of him. It was true, after a certain manner of speaking, but when Leonard got him home that night he would show Jim all the reasons he decided to stick around and give them a chance.

"You're a lot stronger than you look, you know that? Like, damn." The long-since forgotten cadets released their held breath and Jim snapped back to the present quickly. "Did you all see that or do we need to do it again?"

Not one nod, not a word spoken. "Then start practicing! Switch out with your partners after every try. Be a little gentler than my friend here, and don't stop 'til I give the OK."

"Friends? That what we are?" Bones muttered.

"I don't see anyone else applying for the position, Bones. Besides, you just threw me over your shoulder like a sack of flour. I'd hate to be your enemy."

"Hm. Point taken; s'pose I could do worse than a cocky farm boy."

"I might be able to do worse than a sadistic doctor if I looked hard enough." For the first time, they shared a smile and Jim felt all his plans clicking back into place.

"Back to my original question, what are you doing with these fu-"

"They can hear us, Jim."

"First years?" Jim corrected hastily.

"Same thing as you, probably. Penance."

"Not of the self-inflicted variety?" Jim cocked his head.

"Spock. The damned Vulcan has me out here for disrespecting an officer. Says if I'm not careful I'll end up court- martialed for insubordination."

Jim did a double take, "Spock. As in, Commander Spock." It wasn't a question, and Bones didn't answer.

"As in the pointy-eared bastard that earned me and half the academy extra duties for a little game?"

"It wasn't half the academy, and if that's a 'little game' I'd hate to see your idea of a big one, kid."

"So it _is_ that Spock." Jim grinned, "Don't even worry about it, Bones. I found out this weekend in the course of my studies that he's programmed the Maru for the past four years now. It'll piss him off more than anyone when I finally find a way to beat it."

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to help."

"I wouldn't _dream_ of doing it without you, Bones, but let's worry about your sims first."

"Good. And Jim?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"I think they've had enough of the take-down routine."

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Technically, practice was supposed to continue for another forty minutes after that, but Jim dismissed the cadets twenty minutes early citing some bullshit provision that didn't actually exist. Several of them actually looked ready to protest the extra time off until Bones turned his best Disapproving Glare on them.

Jim was certain he would hear about this from Pike at their next scheduled meeting, and Leonard protested that this was not what Spock had meant when he'd ordered him to spend the next couple weeks in a beginner's combat class learning discipline, but Jim's arguments were rather compelling.

The less time spent coaching first years in self-defense the more time they could devote to running through sims. McCoy was enough of a bastard to go along with it; he assured himself the cadets were better off this way, at least he could be certain he wouldn't see them next in the infirmary after trying to show off their brand new moves under the influence of alcohol.

"I reek unto high heaven. Quick shower, and then we hit the proverbial books."

"Fair enough." Len growled, already tensing for this next trial. Jim slanted him a reassuring smile, "Relax, Bones, you'll be fine. You've got me now, and I am a gifted teacher. Promise."

The words weren't exactly reassuring, but it was hard not to respond to Kirk's easy confidence. For one thing, it pissed him off that Kirk could be so cavalier and it pissed him off even more that he found himself liking the kid. Just a little, and only because it was… decent of him to help. Even if he had an ulterior motive or three. Leonard McCoy was not a fool; he recognized a shark in the water when he saw one. It would make turning the tables that much more satisfying in the end.

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When Jim said "quick shower", Len had been expecting maybe ten minutes under the water and a couple more drying off. For himself, he was washed and groomed in fifteen minutes flat. Kirk was just getting to the chorus of whatever godawful song he was caterwauling in there. Leonard winced when he hit a strained high C and tried to carry the note for a few seconds more than strictly necessary.

"Anyone ever told you to try out for the Metropolitan opera?"

"Nope!" Jim chirped.

"There's a good reason for it, kid."

"Ouch. You know, Bones, you have a really sharp tongue. Aren't you southern types supposed to be gentlemen?"

"I missed that class growing up."

"So where's the glowing bedside manner?"

"Skipped that one too. If you're not out of that shower in ten minutes or less I will turn off the hot water. Move, Jim."

"Why? Finally feeling your age catch up with you, old man?"

Bones turned off the hot water five minutes later for spite, but it was a full ten before Kirk finally emerged with blue lips and pale skin, towel draped artfully over his hips. "You are an evil bastard, Bones. I think we'll make a good team."

Len flashed a pleased smile at the compliment; Jim just groaned with despair.

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A full hour later found them just taking their places for a quick landing sim. Jim patted Len's shoulder in what he clearly hoped was a reassuring fashion before taking a seat to the side. "So, this first time we're just going to do a quick diagnostic and see where you're going wrong."

"Everywhere." Len snapped.

"Just a quick run-through, Bones, then we'll get down to the serious stuff."

"I could take this a little more seriously if you'd call me by my damn name, Jim."

Jim shook his head, "Not happening. You could call me something if you'd like-"

"Asshole."

"I was thinking something more like 'captain' -for practice you know- but I guess that works too."

Len tilted his head back, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Very well, _captain_, what do you suggest I do?"

"Turning it on might be a good start, Bones. I can see we're worse off than I thought."

"Fuck you and the ship you flew in on."

"Transporter, Bones. And don't jinx yourself. You sat beside me, remember?"

"Hard to forget the little shit that downed half my whiskey while I was out."

"Wait-you _do_ remember! Aw Bones, I'm feeling all warm and-" Jim cut off as the screen hummed to life, sobering quickly. "All right, now walk me through what we're doing here."

Bones drew a breath, "Disengaging thrusters and bringing stabilizers online." Even from a few feet away, Jim could see his hands trembling.

"I'm pretty sure you're steadier than this with a scalpel in your hands, Bones. At least, I hope so." His attempt at humor fell rather short, and Jim winced as Bones ratcheted up the power too high.

"Um, Bones. You're moving a bit too fast on this one."

"I can't think with you yammering down my ear, Jim." Len barked.

Jim kindly refrained from pointing out that he hadn't been anywhere near McCoy's ears the last time he had attempted this sim.

"Damn it!" Jim started, the screen around them flashing a failure message.

"Told you it was too fast, Bones. Do you always finish this-."

"I swear, Jim, if you turn this into some kind of innuendo, I will castrate you."

Jim shrugged, still looking insufferably smug. "Duly noted. There's a lot of room for improvement here, though."

"Impossible. I'm the original flying ace, that's why you're here, isn't it? To learn from example?"

Jim drew a breath, let it out slowly, another. "All right, let's try this again starting from the top. This time you're going to bring it in as slowly as you can. You'll crash in an entirely different way and maybe we can find a happy middle."

It was quite possible he couldn't fix this one, but he was going to give it his best shot regardless of whatever Bones threw his way.

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And now I am officially through with pre-written chapters, meaning the next update might take a while longer.


	5. Communication Studies

Uhura didn't bother to stifle her smirk when Spock leaned over her shoulder to glance at her PADD, checking her work for any obvious mistakes. She knew he wouldn't find any, she had taken exquisite care to ensure there wouldn't be any errors, obvious or otherwise.

He sneezed softly when he pulled back; she bit her lip to keep from laughing at the affronted look on his face, as though he had been personally wronged by the dust particles floating in the air. Given his penchant for cleanliness, the cleaning staff would probably receive a passive-aggressive critique of their technique and would likely delight in leaving patches of dirt to repay the insult.

"Someone must be talking about you."

"My apologies, cadet, to what are you referring?"

Uhura rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair easily. "Sneezing. There's a human tradition that sneezing means someone is talking about you."

Spock's lip curled with open disdain. "There can be no correlation between the act of sneezing and idle gossip, Uhura. The first is an involuntary response to-"

"I said it was a _tradition_, not a _fact_." Her tone bordered on the insolent, but there was enough good-natured teasing to take the edge off it. She quickly modulated her tone; rank was a matter of some preoccupation for Spock, and while she had another few minutes before Gaila returned it was always best not to push the commander's boundaries without a damn good reason.

"Did Dr. McCoy have something to say? Or was he still sleeping when you slipped out?" There went that resolution, tossed out the airlock with her common sense.

"It is against regulation for instructors to impart details regarding a private conversation with a cadet unless called upon to do so before a tribunal of their peers."

Which Uhura recognized as Spock-speak for "Mind your own business or suffer the consequences." A frown settled on Spock's usually neutral features, telling her she had pinpointed the source of his distress precisely. Satisfied with her brief foray into conversation, Uhura turned back to her work.

It couldn't have been more than three minutes before Spock began speaking again. "Ca- Uhura, do you find that vigorous physical activity relieves anxiety in the face of academic hardship?"

_What the hell?_

"Vigorous physical activity, sir?" Comprehension dawned and Uhura grinned openly, "Rugby, for instance?"

Spock nodded sharply, a darkening glower settling on his brow. "Jim Kirk would say so, if you asked him. And you should ask him about the rugby."

Spock arched a brow subtly, "Kirk. I am familiar with the name."

Uhura couldn't name anyone on campus that wasn't after this weekend. Something had put a fire in him, and she was willing to bet it might be the same man that had soured Spock's mood. She spared a moment to regret ever pointing out Dr. McCoy to Kirk; there was a vague feeling in the pit of her stomach that it might turn out to be the worst decision she'd made yet. Nyota Uhura was not accustomed to making poor decisions, or second-guessing herself; it wasn't a comfortable experience she was finding.

The lab's door hissed open and Uhura started guiltily, resenting Spock's remarkable poise that allowed for no reaction further than a glance in the direction of the door. Gaila stood open-mouthed in the entrance, eyes wide and lips curling into a smile; Uhura shot her a quelling look before pointedly turning away.

Gaila practically skipped across the room to take a seat beside her roommate-cum- reluctant friend, "_Oh my god", _she mouthed "_Details later."_ Uhura's glare had no effect on her exuberance whatsoever, earning a wink instead.

Spock diplomatically pretended not to see Uhura's fingers curl while she debated whether or not to strangle Gaila the moment they were off shift. Better not; Gaila was by far a better cook, and the replicator's options weren't half as appetizing.

Gaila cleared her throat lightly, glancing surreptitiously around to ensure Spock was too engrossed in his work to take much note of her words. "Uhura, I believe I have an indication Whiskey Tango."

"No." Uhura bit out. "Are you sure it wasn't static, Gaila? _Whiskey _was retired a long time ago." She slanted a dangerous eye in the Orion's direction.

"I heard what I heard." Gaila shrugged, "If you'll lend me your equipment for a moment, I'll pass along the message."

"No. Absolutely not." A brief struggle ensued when Gaila attempted to reach over her, unfortunately, they were equally matched for speed and dexterity with Gaila being slightly stronger. Spock glanced up, catching their movements in his peripheral vision. "Is there a problem, cadets?"

"No sir", Gaila smiled brightly-of course she would, because the damned notification had already gone out.

Spock raised an inquiring brow at the sight of Uhura's murderous expression, fixing them both with a stern gaze until they began to fidget. "You are certain, cadet?"

"I thought I might have picked up something for a moment; cadet Uhura analyzed the data and disagreed. Upon further examination, I see that she is right." Gaila tugged a lock of bright hair playfully, "Silly me!"

"Nevertheless you must relay the information to the main database; it will be analyzed thoroughly at a later time. You may submit a brief report on the incident no later than tomorrow night."

Gaila's face fell, "It was only for a moment."

"Any perceived auditory activity must be logged, cadet, regardless of its duration. You _will_ submit a report no later than tomorrow evening."

Gaila's petulant huff didn't even raise an eyebrow. "Uhura assured me it was nothing more than static."

"While cadet Uhura does possess exceptional aural sensitivity, it will be left to linguists more qualified than she to make that determination. Are there any further objections, cadet?"

Gaila would have been a fool to respond in anything but the negative, and despite her antics, Gaila was not a fool. "No sir."

"Then that will be all." It was as much a warning as a statement, and wiped the uncertain smile from Gaila's face completely. Uhura didn't take half as much satisfaction in it as she should have.

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After a solid hour and a half trying to guide a nonexistent shuttle to simulated earth, Leonard McCoy finally threw up his hands and admitted defeat. "I cannot do this. There is no reason a doctor should be foolin' around with these controls anyway. You know what no one ever says to a surgeon? 'Here, doc, take the conn while we suture up this poor bastard.' Doesn't happen."

Len could see Jim's jaw flexing before he finally replied, blue eyes flashing with something that looked dangerously like temper. Huh. For a while there, he had been beginning to think maybe the kid just didn't have it in him.

"It doesn't matter whether you're a med cadet or on the command track, these sims are _required_ for graduation. You will wash if you don't pass and that would be a damn shame because you are CMO material. _Enterprise_ CMO material."

Leonard opened his mouth to respond with something suitably cutting, but Kirk bounded out of his chair and closed the distance between them quickly. "And how the hell would you know if you'll ever be called on to take the controls? You _don't. _You can't just raise your arms and surrender. _Anything_ could happen out there."

"My point exactly! It's my job to pick up the pieces afterward, leave it to the _smart_ kids to get that ship where it's going."

"Fuck you, Bones. My father fucking _died_ in the black, and his crew of twenty damn minutes made it out because _everybody_ knew what they were doing, right down to the youngest nurse."

Len paled, "Fuck, kid. I didn't know."

Jim's breathing slowed, but his hands continued to shake almost imperceptibly. "It's not exactly something I like to crow about, but that's not the point. Point is, you don't know what you'll be doing from minute to minute; you don't know if you'll be the last one alive and able to take those controls. This isn't even a full-sized ship, just a shuttle landing; there's every chance you're going to have to try it one day and you don't just learn it on the spot."

Jim stepped back, and Bones felt he could breathe comfortably again. His voice was subdued when he spoke, and already Bones was missing his lighter tone. "Those last two weren't so bad. I think you're just second-guessing yourself. You expect to fail and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Get yourself into your doctor head-space and stop panicking every time something beeps." Len sighed with relief when Kirk managed an encouraging smile; those had become increasingly rare this past half hour.

"Easy as that. Just stop panicking is your professional advice?"

"It's a good enough starting point. If you want, we could come back tomorrow and try this again-"

"Once more. Let's run through it once more and then call it a night. I think you might have knocked me stupid during practice today."

Jim nodded, beaming as though he hadn't just shown his fangs a moment ago; Leonard decided right then he would prefer never to see that again. Clearly Kirk had a talent for fighting dirty; Bones was still feeling a guilty ache in the pit of his stomach.

It might have been that very guilt that made him land the shuttle with only a little over fifteen percent hull damage, his lowest rate yet. Jim clapped him on the back hard enough that he was sure he would feel the sting of it for days to come.

"Success! What'd I tell you, Bones? Keep your calm and everything comes together."

"Stop patronizing me, kid. This sim is set for flawless shuttle performance and a beautiful sunny day; the tests will throw all sort of curve balls and you know it."

"Baby steps, Bones. Baby steps."

"What did I just say about patronizing me, infant?"

Jim shrugged easily, "We can work with these results, we should have at least another month before they start pushing you to take the tests again." He would talk to Pike and make sure Bones had at least that long. Jim hated the thought of using Chris' fondness for him, loathed the sense of betrayal that lingered in the back of his mind even now, but this was for a good cause. Distasteful as it was, he would use ant advantage to make sure the doctor was a part of his crew.

Len snorted, "I wouldn't take that to the track. There is _some_ time though. Enough maybe to try again tomorrow night?" He wondered if Jim had truly forgiven his idiocy; couldn't blame him if he hadn't, but Jim was already nodding before the doubt even had a chance to settle.

"Same time? Meet in the caf for supper and then head here? Supper puts me in a better mood." That sounded suspiciously like an apology and it made Len distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hell, kid, if that's the case, I think we should eat _now._" Now that Jim had mentioned food, his stomach felt more than a little hollow.

"It's almost nine and the caf's closed; you don't like my empty carbs and sugar, so I don't see what we're supposed to eat." That was a sulk coming on; Len had seen that same expression on Joanna's face many times just before she decided to kick into full-out pouting. Joanna's bratty moods were almost the equal of her mother's. Almost.

It took Leonard less than a split second to make his decision, "You're hopeless. Walk with me, I'll make you something that doesn't require your nasty pseudo-food."

"My 'nasty pseudo-food' has served me well this far." Despite the words he followed along like a faithful puppy. McCoy stifled a grin at the image of an overgrown retriever jogging at his heels.

"Your smiles scare me, Bones."

"You wanna eat or not?"

"Never said you could scare away my appetite. I'm only suggesting you could make that smile a little more 'Nice night, isn't it' and a little less, 'Oh look, something wandered into my web.'"

A harsh beeping interrupted whatever Bones had intended to say next, Jim scrambled for his pocket and fumbled his comm out, smiling sheepishly. "It's Gaila, probably something stupid, but I need-"

"Don't take all night, bad enough to eat this late; it'll weigh heavy on you if we eat much later."

"D'ya catch that last part, Gaila? Hurry up and spit it out."

"Indication Whiskey Tango! You know what that means; the Russian kid is buying." A cheerful voice announced.

"Whiskey Tango?" Bones whispered.

"Hey, is someone there with you? You're not cheating, are you? 'Cause I will totally hand your ass over to Uhura if you are. Love you to pieces, Jim, but it's a sacred trust-"

"Take out the first couple letters; I haven't eaten all day and Bones was kind enough to offer. No tango for me."

"I'm telling Uhura!" The comm cut out with a crackle.

"Cheating? Is she your girlfriend?"

"Girl and friend. Sometimes. Combining the two would probably result in the apocalypse."

"Uh huh. What the hell's a whiskey tango? I think if it were a drink I would have heard of it."

Jim rolled his eyes, "Have you been living in the library since your first day? It's a party out in town; the youngest recruit buys the beer. This one is probably in honor of the Russian whiz kid that transferred from Moscow a few months back."

Leonard glared poisonously, "I treated him for a sprained wrist after your debacle this weekend. He's too young to be buying your drinks. Hell, he's too young to be off his momma's apron strings."

"Can't say I would know, seeing as my mother never wore an apron with strings or otherwise. Be interesting to see what he comes up with. You mentioned food? They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, I've always thought it should be the-"

"Jim."

"Shutting up, Bones."

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Jim sauntered along beside Bones, basking in a rare moment of contentment. He was acutely aware that this evening had nearly ended in disaster; Bones' self-pitying surrender had infuriated him beyond a reasonable frustration. He had been out of the chair and in McCoy's face before the act had even registered; thankfully, Bones had taken it in stride. Sometimes Jim found the depth of his bitterness a little intimidating himself, even after all these years of living with it.

Bones was the second person that hadn't apologized for his father's death like he had taken a personal hand in it. Pike had practically congratulated Jim for it, and while that had been vastly preferable to the pitying looks he had been receiving from his teachers for years, it wasn't quite what he had hoped for. Uhura and Gaila had both come across it in the course of their studies, Uhura offering condolences for something he couldn't even remember sometimes smothering him with her tough-love approach, and Gaila all too willing to cry on his behalf. He'd run the gamut of reactions whenever another cadet found out, thought he had seen every possible combination.

Bones offered nothing even resembling an apology, just an admission that he hadn't even known. That was new and wholly unexpected.

Growing up he'd become accustomed to the half-overheard conversations between teachers and remarks from children. "That's Jim kirk, he's a troublemaker, but who can blame him? No father to teach him any better." Winona had tried her best on that score, had even succeeded for awhile; the less said about Frank the better.

The worst was that moment when he was singled out by councilors and psychiatrists trying to make him a pet project, always analyzing him like some exotic specimen beneath a microscope.

Bones had been nothing like that; regretful without being condescending. He hadn't pushed the issue any farther or demanded any more details, and now they were just walking. No talking, no mention of what had happened during their tutoring.

Damn moonlight was making him emotional; there was a reason it was called 'lunacy'; Uhura could probably give him the complete etymology of the word.

Jim nearly walked right into the door when Bones stopped to key in his entry code. "You all right, Jim?"

"Hungry, tired, very much alive."

"Low blood sugar." Bones eyed him with concern, "We'll fix something quick."

"Thanks, Bones."

"Call it a partial payment for putting up with me."

Jim offered an easy smile, "We'll call it paid when you sign for the Enterprise."

Bones rolled his eyes, "Assuming I'm ever cleared for flight."

Jim headed straight for the lift but Bones reached out and snagged his arm to drag him toward the stairs, ignoring Jim's half-hearted protests. Much as he hated to admit it he enjoyed the brief, unthinking contact; Bones was sturdy, nothing like Gaila's occasional soft pats. Tired as he was, it was good to know he had someone beside him that could guide him straight.

Bones stopped in front of his door, grimacing when Jim reached out and typed in his code with a cocky grin; his grip tightened for a moment then released. "I'm not even goin' to ask why you know that. I wouldn't like the answer."

"You can change it later if it bothers you that much; right now, I am starving."

Bones shook his head despairingly, but chivvied Jim to the only chair in the room before making his way to the kitchenette. "Any allergies I should know about?"

Jim thanked his lucky stars Bones had bothered to ask; he would have been too busy taking in his new surroundings to offer his customary warning otherwise. "Everything, pretty much. Except peanuts. I can totally eat peanuts."

Bones arched a disbelieving brow; Jim matched and raised him one.

"So you want peanut butter by the tablespoon?"

"Um. Sure, Bones. That works."

Bones tilted his head back, probably praying for patience; it was a gesture Jim knew well. "Are you allergic to any vegetables?"

"Everything except tomatoes-"

"Tomatoes are fruits."

"Don't be a pedant. Tomatoes, green beans and leeks- sometimes onions, and a few peppers."

"Corn?"

"Nope."

"What kind of homegrown Iowa boy doesn't eat corn?"

"Not fair. I'm not calling you out for not making fried chicken with grits."

Bones pulled a face, "Whoever told you those should be eaten together was lying, kid. And fried chicken does terrible things to your arteries."

He turned away before Jim could think up a retort, sterilizing his hands before he would even touch the counter. 'Neat freak' wasn't a terribly clever insult; Bones would probably take it for a compliment.

Jim's comm beeped again before he palmed it off, too busy taking stock of Bones' quarters.

A twin bed was tucked away in the far right corner facing an old closet, disappointingly closed and sealed. There was a thin rug at the side of the bed, obviously designed to be hypo-allergenic, and the floor was annoyingly spotless. His chair seemed to be the only one in the room, clearly a match for the business-like, standard-issue desk pressed in the left corner. McCoy's PADD lay invitingly in the center just under the light. Jim valiantly resisted his snooping impulse. Bones would only catch him anyway.

There was something else on the desk too, hidden on the corner in the shadowed part. Jim watched Bones carefully to be sure he would have the time to make the quest before he was stopped. He considered that if ever there was a time for shame to stop him from doing something it should be now.

No shame was forthcoming.

With a happy shrug, Jim casually walked across to the desk and leaned down to see what Bones would keep on his desk besides study material. There were no other decorations or reminders of home so it had to be something special.

And was confronted with Doppelganger Bones, staring solemnly back at him. They sat on green grass beneath what must have been an oak tree, he could see moss on some of the overarching branches behind them. Doppelganger sat primly in her father's lap, leaning back into his chest and watching their observer from beneath half-lidded eyes. Her hair was as dark as her father's, falling in waves to just past her shoulders, but her eyes were a dark black that couldn't possibly have come from him, and her skin was several shades lighter, though freckling from hours spent in the sun. Bones was wearing that smile again, though his eyes were brighter and there was no stiffness in his shoulders. His hands were folded protectively around the girl's shoulders, and she was gripping his arms with frail fingers.

It was the very picture of a peaceful summer's day.

He felt McCoy's presence behind him, neck hairs prickling at the proximity.

"That's my Little Girl." Bones said it in the same way Jim imagined he would one day introduce his ship, "That's My Ship, the Enterprise." Just like that. Like those words held all the meaning of the universe in their short syllables, like that was all that needed to be said of anything.

Winona had used that tone once when he was very young, before all the trouble and anger and pointless arguments.

Bones offered him a bowl filled with something piping hot and savory. Jim burnt his tongue in his eagerness to try a taste.

"Go easy, it's still hot. I'll forgive you for blowing on it."

Jim took his advice, breathing in the scent of sweet, life-giving food.

Bones was still eyeing the portrait with something like the regret Jim had seen in his face before.

"What's her name?" McCoy's record had mentioned a child, but Kirk hadn't paid it any mind, hadn't even known it was his daughter.

"Joanna. Joanna Elizabeth McCoy; she answers to Jo. Thinks the other is too frilly."

Jim snorted, "Looks like you agree with her."

"Jocelyn insisted on a middle name. I remember mine too well." Leonard pulled a face.

"She's you in miniature. Seriously, a doppelganger effect."

"Got her mother's eyes, though. And that attitude is all her own." Jim begged to differ in the privacy of his own thoughts, but Bones was too busy gazing wistfully at the girl to notice.

He blinked back into focus, all business again. "You practically inhaled the soup; it's not healthy to eat that fast, Jim."

"Sorry, mother." Jim grinned unrepentantly. "More please?"

Bones sighed, "This is going to become a regular occurrence, isn't it?"

"Call it payment toward-"

"Putting up with me. Of course."

Jim's comm began to vibrate and he growled out a curse, struggling to balance another warm bowl of soup and the unit. "Damn it, Gaila. Leave me alone."

"Your not-girlfriend? Better take it, might be important."

"If it were, you would have received a notification to present yourself at the infirmary.

"Jim, if she's goin' and tellin' her friends that you're cheating-" Bones' lips twisted mockingly and Jim had to clamp down on the impulse to stick out his tongue childishly. "You might want to pick that up long enough to tell her otherwise."

"For the last time, she's not my lover. You and I could totally fuck like animals right now and Gaila would pat my back and congratulate me on my good luck. And you and I could totally fuck anytime, Bones." Jim winked when Bones wrinkled his nose disbelievingly, glaring at Kirk once more. They had been having a perfectly civil conversation, friendly even, and then Jim had to go and throw out the innuendo again.

It wouldn't have mattered so much except that Jim _was_ a handsome bastard, and he _was_ coming up on nearly a year of celibacy. He wouldn't recommend the state to anyone, but the old proverb about not fowling one's nest still rang true. If they had met under more auspicious circumstances, if Kirk hadn't been so damn heavy-handed, if the kid wasn't so young, and wasn't tutoring him and he didn't have more important things on his mind… in short, if absolutely everything were different, Len might have pushed him against the wall and had his wicked way right there.

While he polished off his second bowl, Jim's eyes twinkled as though he knew exactly what Bones was thinking. Blue eyes were dreamers' eyes his mother had told him once when he was very young; dreamers spent so long staring off into the sky that they carried a part of it with them everywhere. He had tried telling Joanna the same thing, whereupon she had promptly inquired whether her eyes were brown because she kept them firmly on earth.

Deciding that a lecture on genetics was not the way to finish off a fishing trip, Len had assured her that was exactly the case.

Leonard cleared his throat, "I'm wiped, kid. If you're finished with that bowl just set it on the counter. I'll see to it in the morning." No needless luxuries for cadets, not even top-flight medical cadets.

Jim nodded agreeably, "Sure thing, Bones. Tomorrow we'll see if you can't repeat that landing with a little more success-"

"If you warn me not to panic even once more, Jim, I will throw you down the stairs."

"I'm already gone, Bones." He hurried to the door, and out into the hallway before calling back "And don't panic. We've got this."

"Dammit, Jim!"

!

For all his claims of fatigue, Leonard still settled into a corner of his bed to compose a short, reassuring letter for Joanna before he finally allowed himself the sleep his body craved.

!

!

* * *

This chapter progressed a lot faster than I thought; if there were such a thing as watching too much Star Trek, I might be guilty of it.


	6. The Nature of Friendship

"Starfleet Command to Jim Kirk; come in, captain." Gaila waved a hand pointedly in Jim's face, eyes narrowed and glittering with frustration. He'd been spacing out all during breakfast; watching the door like some sort of predator waiting for its prey to step out into the open. His baby blues were practically crossed in thought and that smile had turned downright lecherous these past few minutes.

"_Enterprise_, come in."

Jim reluctantly snapped out of a pleasant little daydream involving Bones, one too many glasses of something as cheap as it was strong, and the sim chamber.

"No kidding."

Gaila pursed her lips, chin jutting out belligerently, "You didn't hear a word I said."

"Gary Mitchell got a little too handsy last night and you tapped him out. I should've known he'd be a pushy drunk- little bit of a God complex going on there."

"Not that you're an expert on God complexes or anything, Jim." Uhura's lips curved into a mocking smile.

"All I'm saying is he'll never see the Enterprise when I have a say in it."

"You won't. That ship is destined for Pike, and he'll hand it to the klingons before he sees you in the captain's chair."

"Um, ouch? What's got your panties in a twist this morning?"

"She wishes you were Spock-"

Uhura elbowed Gaila hard enough that the latter actually shifted down the bench a full space.

"Commander Spock? What the hell, Uhura- I thought we were friends."

"Only in your fondest imaginings, Kirk."

Jim leaned back, studying Uhura closely. She was staring him down calmly, as poised and elegant as ever, but he could see her fingers constantly shifting their grip on her spoon and she was chewing with more force than oatmeal really merited. There might actually be something to Gaila's gossip this time.

"Uhura, illicit romances are so _sordid_. I demand evidence immediately- preferably of the visual variety."

"When Starfleet finally discharges you for insensitivity I will request a front row seat for the proceedings."

"He said she had exceptional aural sensitivity. He never gives compliments, Jim." Gaila bounced happily in her seat, artfully dodging another blow from Uhura's quarter.

"Exceptional oral sensitivity…Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

"_Aural_ sensitivity, asshole. I don't suppose you know what that means."

"Ears a weak spot for you? Kinky." Jim winked.

Uhura bit into her toast like she was tearing out the throat of her arch nemesis, eyes locked on Jim all the while. He spontaneously decided it might be time for a change of subject.

"Whiz kid- Chekov. How'd that little party go? Besides Gary of the Wandering Hands." Jim tipped a nod to Gaila, mentally making a note to check for Gary's next P.T. session; heaven help the poor bastard if he ever ended up in Jim's class.

Uhura groaned with feeling and Gaila sighed softly, patting her shoulder in an unthinking gesture of comfort.

"Gaila brought back three pallets of something that dares to call itself beer and left it in my closet."

"_Our_ closet. And what was I supposed to do? The poor kid looked so heartbroken; if you had seen the way he lit up when I offered to take it-"

"For the record, if beer's not your thing I will take one for the team."

"Near-beer, Jim. He's so by-the-book it's painful to watch." and this coming from Uhura; someone needed to pull that kid aside and corrupt him thoroughly before he turned into a fine, upstanding young officer.

"Speaking of fine men." Jim murmured, finally catching sight of his tardy prey. "Bones! Over here!"

Gaila and Uhura turned as one, looking for the unfortunate object of Jim's attention; Uhura winced sympathetically to see Doctor McCoy drawing into himself, trying desperately to sink into the floor as one by one every eye turned toward him.

"Bones! BonesBonesBones!"

"Stop it, Jim." Uhura hissed. "You're embarrassing all of us."

"Are you ashamed of me? Uhura, you've cut me to the quick, but I am willing to forgive you… in exchange for your first name."

"It looks like you're already making progress toward that." Gaila whispered, beaming at Doctor McCoy while he slunk ever closer, holding his breakfast tray before him like a shield. Jim scooted down one, patting the space beside him proudly. "I saved you a seat."

"I can see that." McCoy grumbled, settling beside Jim with an almost inaudible comment about Morning People and the perils of speaking with them before having coffee.

"How'd you sleep? I slept great. Ready for that next sim? I am hyped-"

McCoy raised a finger and Jim fell silent, obviously bursting with the need to speak but containing himself.

"You have to teach me that trick." Uhura smiled wryly.

"It's all in the wrist, m'dear. Why don't you introduce me to your friends, Jim." It wasn't precisely a suggestion, and though it looked Jim was gearing up for a sulk of epic proportions, he had the good grace to accede quickly.

"Uhura, Gaila, This is Bones. You can call him Leonard."

"Think you got that all twisted up, Jim." Bones shook his head in exasperation; "I'm Leonard McCoy, and you can call me anything _but_ Bones."

"Isn't that what I just said? Bones is all mine; down to his bones."

"We get it, Kirk." Uhura rolled her eyes dramatically, shoving her food away; Jim promptly snatched her leftovers, grinning unrepentantly when she glared.

"Growing boys have to eat."

"In't that the truth." Bones muttered, taking a deep draught from his little paper cup. "Grow too much and you won't be able to fit into your Reds, Jim."

"So, conversation so far: Chekov's a mama's boy, Gary Mitchell got an attitude adjustment the other night and Uhura's making eyes at- Ouch! Fuck, that hurt. Are you wearing stilettos? I think you're wearing stilettos."

Bones jumped when a sharp heel contacted sharply with his ankle, "Definitely." He choked.

"I'm sorry, Doctor McCoy. That one was for Kirk."

McCoy cuffed Jim lightly, smiling wearily at Uhura, "Consider it delivered."

"Um, Bones, not to wreck your mood or anything, but you do know you're supposed to be _my_ friend, right?"

"Wouldn't be too chivalrous of me to deny a lady's request, Jim. No hard feelings."

"Coffee works wonders for your mood, Bones. Remind me to keep some on hand at all times."

"And the Saurian brandy."

"Kind of a given, Bones."

Jim caught Uhura's amused gaze and tipped her a wink, her expression instantly became neutral once more. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Doctor McCoy. We should try this again sometime- without the children." Uhura gestured pointedly to Gaila and Jim.

"Not likely." Jim muttered, suppressing an unexpected and entirely unmerited stab of jealousy at Uhura's suggestion. Bones was _his_ friend, dammit. He'd known him all weekend and now Uhura was just going to waltz in over the course of one meal and make off with him? Not happening.

Privately Jim could admit how ridiculous that was, but in his heart of hearts he was a possessive son of a bitch and he wanted Bones' companionship all to himself. Just for a while. It took him a minute to realize Uhura was still sitting across from him with an all too knowing light in her eyes. He hated that look, hated it with every fiber of his being; she was reading him just like she did all those foreign scripts, weighing him and taking his measure; probably coming to all the right conclusions too.

"I'll bring him back in one piece, Jim." The reassuring smile was clearly an afterthought. She knew him too well by half; why the hell did he insist on intelligent friends when it always ended up screwing him over?

"You damn well better." His laughter was a little strained and Bones set down his cup to eye him with concern. Jim could practically hear the hiss of hyposprays. "I don't have enough friends that I can afford to lose even one."

That was simple truth.

Bones cleared his throat uncomfortably, "I'll meet you again this evening, Jim."

Jim clapped him on the back, "Only a couple tonight. I have an early-morning seminar on Wednesdays." Jim pulled a face, "Joys of being a newly-appointed TA."

He glared pointedly at Uhura and a breathless Gaila, mouthing "Shoo" under his breath. Gaila looked about ready to faint with excitement, stumbling from her place hurriedly; Uhura only picked up her tray and left the table, nodding to McCoy as she passed.

"Will you still have time for supper?"

"Absolutely." With the incentive of Bones' cooking, that was a meal he was determined never to miss again.

!

!

Len tried to enjoy his breakfast, truly; it was just a little difficult with Jim staring at his plate like a hungry owl or a hopeful puppy waiting for a scrap. Several times he was tempted to throw a piece of fruit in Jim's direction and see if he wouldn't leap to catch it- smart credits were on yes.

"Something I can do for you, kid?"

"Nope."

So much for shaming him out of it, Jim Kirk was not above begging.

Feeling a little impish after a good night's sleep and a strong cup of coffee, Len gestured to his plate. "You want this when I'm finished?"

Jim grinned, "Wouldn't object."

"Too bad. I'm starving." He made sure to pick the best slice of melon and swallow it whole, smirking at his companion.

"'Sides, don't you have a class to get to?"

"It's Tuesday; I've got nothing until this evening. You?"

"Graveyard shift at the clinic." Bones pulled a face, "Have the rest of the day to prepare for it, though."

"Then let's switch up. I could get us into a sim now."

Bones frowned, "Middle of classes? They're probably all occupied."

"TA, remember? For navigation, no less; rampant abuse of authority is my specialty."

"I don't know, Jim…"

"You and I both know how this is going to end, so let's move past the part where you offer moral objections and I counter with stunning logic; we can skip to where you finally agree." Jim beamed benevolently.

Len found himself nodding his agreement despite his very best intentions. It was those damn sparkling eyes and wicked smile clouding his judgment again, and Len knew from the sinking feeling in his gut this wouldn't be the last time that combination would get him into trouble, but if he was going to hell anyway he might as well go first class.

!

!

Twenty minutes later and they were walking unobtrusively down the academy's sterile halls while Jim looked for a room that wasn't occupied. So far, all indicators seemed to be red, but Jim refused to give up regardless of Len's pleading.

"You're not going to give up that easy. Are you? Remember what I said about washing- you don't get a second chance."

Leonard wanted nothing more than to protest, assure Jim that they could just limit Tuesday sessions to quarter-hour increments and leave it at that, but he needed all the help he could get. Last night hadn't gone so well that he could afford to pass up more informal practice whenever a room was available. Jim was right, there were no second chances, and if he had known it was more than graduation at stake likely he would push even harder.

Joanna would never forgive him if he failed. Then again, if he passed, assignment to a starship was essentially guaranteed no matter his druthers. Would she forgive him when he left her alone for five years without even the assurance of a chance to speak with him regularly? What would it do to her, being alone in that woman's company for so long?

He didn't have the right to worry, Jocelyn might have been the one to initiate the divorce proceedings, but he was the one that spent every credit to his name getting as far from Georgia as it would take him. He was the one that had climbed into the Starfleet shuttle and never looked back.

"I'm her father, dammit." The words slipped out unintentionally; his own fault for always speaking his mind instead of learning to keep a thought quiet here and there.

"You say something, Bones?"

The worst part of all this was, he wanted to say something. He could've used an encouraging word or two, some reassurance that it would turn out alright. Jim could no more make those promises than he could, and there was no reason to worry him with this; ultimately, none of this concerned him.

"Nothing, Jim. Nothing." Genius that he was, Kirk wisely left it at that.

"I guess the rooms are occupied. Never fear, I have a plan."

A shiver of foreboding raced down Leonard's spine as though someone had walked over his grave. "I have a plan." It was a phrase that he would hear many times throughout his long life, and it would almost always end with a full sickbay. Fortunately, at the moment this remained only a suspicion niggling at the back of Len's mind else he might have raced away right then.

Jim approached the nearest door, typed his entry code into the screen and waiting for a red "Denied" to scroll across the screen. Leonard couldn't see what he did next, but Jim was humming softly as he worked- a tune Leonard recognized from childhood; a song that always heralded the arrival of the hero. Figured.

The door slid open and Jim stepped inside, "Excuse me, sirs. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This room is booked until noon and you've already eaten up ten minutes of my hour… Chekov, right? And you are?" Jim shifted his attention to the dark-haired man seated next to the boy- and didn't he have a nursery somewhere he should be playing in? Last Leonard had heard, Starfleet wasn't recruiting infants, must have been a change of policy recently.

"Sulu. Hikaru Sulu. I'm not aware of any previous reservations for this room." He arched a slender brow, lips quirking up into a smirk that invited Jim to join in his amusement, "Perhaps you have the day mixed up?"

"Last I checked, it was Tuesday."

"Then I must regretfully inform you that I have this room booked every Tuesday for practice."

"What a coincidence. This one Tuesday, I've done the same."

"Jim, can we go? Maybe you booked a different room?" Bones glowered at him, displeased at taking part in the deception.

"I'm sure it was this one."

"I'm sure it _wasn't_." Bones and Hikaru snapped at the same time. Chekov shrunk down into his seat, and sweet saints above he didn't even have whiskers yet- nothing more than baby fuzz- what the hell was Starfleet thinking?

Jim locked eyes with Bones, willing him to silence. Unfortunately, that was exactly what Leonard was worst at; most of his troubles could be traced right back to his big mouth.

"I think the next room over is open, Jim. Why don't we leave Mr. Sulu to his duties?" Chekov perked up immediately; Sulu slanted him a grateful look, nodding his agreement.

"Maybe you're right. Let's check, shall we?" Jim practically hauled Len out by the scruff of his neck, glancing around the hallway nervously. "Are you kidding, Bones? We were _this_ close." Jim held his thumb and pointer finger an inch apart.

"There's a special place reserved for liars, Jim."

"I prefer to call it 'bluffing.'"

"I'm sure you do; it's all semantics though."

"Uhura could tell you all about semantics; I'm just talking common sense."

Bones sighed, "I'm really not up for this, Jim. Let's call it a day and come back tonight. A day off can't make my scores any worse than they are."

Jim sobered instantly, "You could be doing worse, Bones. Told you once, didn't I? We're teaming up for this- I get you through this rough patch, you help me stick it to Spock and we fly off into the stars to kick ass and take names."

"I'm sure you meant 'To explore new worlds and seek out new civilizations'.'"

"That's what I said."

"Thought so." Bones snorted.

They ambled along together, both contented with the silence and lost in their individual thoughts. Leonard couldn't stop seeing Joanna's miserable face when she demanded he comm her more often; if it was this bad after a few months of sparing contact, how much worse would it be when he left the planet altogether and gallivanted off on some grand adventure while she stayed dirt-side? He couldn't very well take her along, while Chekov looked a little young to his eyes he certainly wasn't that young.

Joss wasn't a bad mother, she was just… Jocelyn- Jocelyn Darnell despite his very best attempts to get her to unbend a little.

Leonard cleared his throat, looking for something to say, anything at all to draw him out of his melancholy. "I need a drink." In point of fact, that was the very last thing he needed; he wouldn't touch the stuff until he had flight clearance and a court order permitting him visitation rights, but if ever a man had been tempted it was he.

Jim nodded, "I might be able to do something about that."

"No, Jim. Y'can't tempt a sinner and expect him to act like a saint. Nothing stronger than coffee 'til I've passed that damned test."

"You're in luck. Gaila has a few pallets worth of near-beer she can't even begin to get rid of. Chekov wasn't feeling too creative apparently- spotless record to maintain."

"Good on him." Leonard snapped, unreasonably annoyed at Jim's amusement.

"Never said otherwise; point is, Uhura will thank us if we get it out of her closet, and it can't be much stronger than tea. We could take it back to my place-"

Bones shook his head quickly. "Hell no. I've seen your place. It ought to be classified as a bio-hazard and isolated until someone can organize a cleanup."

"Then we'll take it back to your place and bitch about whatever is on your mind while pretending to be perfectly wasted."

"Who said I had anything on my mind?"

"For one thing, if you didn't, you would be functionally brain dead. For another, you don't have much of a poker face."

"One of these days I'm going to sit you down to play poker and we'll see who comes out with heavier pockets by the end of the night."

"Or, purely in the interest of economy, we could play strip poker."

"Give it up, Jim. I'm about twelve shots too sober for it."

Jim sighed, "Have it your way, then, but you really don't know what you're missing out on."

Having perused Jim's form that first night at the bar- purely by habit, he was a doctor, after all- Leonard did have a pretty good idea of what he was missing. Still, the cluster-fuck that would result from pursuing that line of thought was not one he was eager to confront.

So they would play poker, and they would stay clothed, and there would be minimum consumption of alcohol, and Jim would stop with the bedroom eyes and never-ending suggestiveness.

Jim would laughingly reference this conversation sometime many years later with Bones pinned firmly to the table beneath him and none too happy about it. "Twelve shots, Bones? I only count four." A few minutes later, Jim would find he really couldn't count at all and that laughter was a little difficult when he couldn't draw a proper breath. Bones frequently lamented that if he had truly known what he was missing out on that afternoon, he would have dragged Jim to the nearest supply closet and ravished him right then.

Scotty never would figure out which of those idiotic ensigns kept screwing up his painstakingly organized closets, but he always suspected it must be one of Jim's favorites because damned if the captain didn't cackle like a hyena every time Scotty brought it to his attention.

* * *

!

!

Jim whistled a merry little tune as he jogged up the stairs to Uhura's and Gaila's quarters, he hadn't even glanced at the lift this time, knowing that Bones would only glower and mutter some dire warning about diabetes, lack of exercise and the correlation between the two. He was becoming rather good at predicting what Bones would think; already his conscience seemed to speak in a muted southern growl every time he contemplated something he knew Bones wouldn't appreciate.

Like now.

He had been perfectly serious when he suggested the near-beer and bitch-fest to Bones, and for Bones that would be fine since he was determined that no alcohol would pass his lips until he was restored to the status of perfect student.

Jim had exactly one problem with this- _near_ beer wasn't beer. It lacked the one crucial quality that Jim insisted upon, namely the very alcohol Bones was determined to avoid. Jim knew exactly how to fix that.

He had only to foment the near-beer in order to turn it into something drinkable, and wonder of wonders, Gaila kept yeast on hand for her domestic moods when she went full out and set to baking entire loaves from scratch.

Bones would have a heater in his quarters; combine the two and he should come up with a decent bottle of beer. The down side to all this was he didn't think Bones would care for the idea. He had classes to teach this afternoon, and Bones had approved of Chekov's neat little dodge in acquiring the non-alcoholic drinks while still technically abiding by tradition. The goal here would be to slip the yeast into his own bottle and find an excuse to leave it near a heat-source.

Voila, Leonard would have his tame drinks, and Jim could knock back a home-made beer. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Finally reaching Gaila's floor- and not a bit out of breath thank you very much, Bones- Jim hurried to her door to enter her code, only to be stopped. An entirely involuntary shiver ran through him at the feel of Bones' broad hand gently squeezing his forearm; that should not be hot, why the hell was that so _hot_? Clearly he had been celibate too long, and the next few weeks weren't really looking promising either. He bit back a groan of disappointment.

"Do you make a habit of collecting entry codes and barging into people's rooms unannounced? Knock, Jim, we're not savages living in open caves."

"Gaila gave it to me!" Jim pressed the chime, waited no more than two seconds before pressing it again; with a grin he began to press it as fast as he possibly could. Bones rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to bury his head in his hands but only just.

The door flew open, revealing one very irate cadet Uhura, "What are _you_ here for?" She glanced to Leonard, eyes narrowing, "And why are you encouraging him?"

"He's a force of nature-"

"Hello, we're here representing the official Commission for the Immediate Disposal of Contraband. Our records indicate-"

"If you want Chekov's drinks, take all of them and get out."

For a second, Jim actually managed to look contrite: "Sorry, I didn't think this would be a bad time."

Uhura shut her eyes, drew a deep breath. "It's not. Come in, and get out quickly."

"You could join our bitch-fest if you want."

"In the middle of the day? You're supposed to save those for weekends at the bar."

"Or Tuesday afternoons as needed."

Uhura nodded and stepped aside; Jim followed her, smiling with satisfaction when the closet door slid open to reveal entirely too many drinks for two, or even four people.

"Think Gaila would care to join us?"

"Undoubtedly, but she has class."

Jim tried not to let his relief show; Bones would be far more prone to telling him what was going on if he didn't feel like he had an audience, and Jim was determined to coax him out of his mood.

With that thought in mind he swooped down to snatch a couple bottles, hesitated before going back for one more. Bones hadn't hardly had time to look over his shoulder before Jim turned to usher him from the room again.

"She said 'get out', Bones. I don't think she appreciates our fine company."

Uhura shared a look with Bones that plainly said she pitied him; Bones seemed to appreciate the gesture. It was really a very good thing Jim had a solid sense of his own self-worth or those looks might actually get to him. As it was, he left them to exchange a few words while he made his way to Gaila's half of their miniscule kitchenette.

"Uhura, you think Gaila would mind if I snatched-"

"Take whatever you want, Jim. Don't hold me accountable if she demands your soul in exchange."

Perfect. Just a smidgen of yeast and he was ready to go.

"You know better than that; I sold it to Starfleet a few years back." That won him a small smile, and Jim congratulated himself on a job well done. The trick now would be to set up his impromptu brewery without Bones descending on him in righteous wrath.

* * *

!

!

One in the afternoon found them in Len's quarters, Jim sitting comfortably in the chair by his desk while Bones scoured the kitchen for something to eat that wouldn't send Jim into convulsions. He hadn't missed the fact that Jim had palmed a small container over at Uhura's rooms; between the third bottle that had miraculously disappeared after they entered his rooms and the sneaky way Jim had tried to hide whatever he had nicked from the girls' kitchen, and that innocent look he worked so hard to emulate it was fairly obvious what he was up to.

Leonard may or may not have pulled that trick in his days at Ole Miss, and all it had gained him was a room full of shattered glass, spilled beer and clumps of yeast that had taken hours to scrub up. If the kid wanted to try running his own private brewery from the comfort of his quarters, that was his business- just so long as _his_ name wasn't dragged into it.

"Leftovers, we're having leftovers." It was making him a little twitchy, the way Jim kept glancing around the room and analyzing everything in sight. Every few minutes he would turn back to that holo of Joanna and smile to himself as though he knew a secret even Leonard wasn't in on- it was damned disconcerting.

Len strode over, lukewarm bowls of soup in hand; he passed the first to Jim and headed over to his own bed, leaning back against the wall and popping the top of the beer with a practiced whip of his wrist against the headboard.

Jim's eyes widened to the size of saucers, gazing at him in mute admiration. He didn't even have time to protest before Jim had practically skipped across the room and thrown himself down beside him. He held out his bottle like a sacred offering, sharp gaze taking in Len's every movement. "You have to teach me how to do that."

Leonard chuckled softly, moving aside to let Jim get a better angle of sight before popping it once more; Jim accepted the bottle with both hands, holding it like a holy relic.

"There's no trick to it, kid. Thought you would have known that technique by now; hell, my own father taught it to me when I was just a little scrap."

"Fucking. Awesome."

Leonard decided there was something to be said for overgrown children that could be entertained so easily as that. It was a useless trick, but he couldn't help preening a little at Jim's excitement.

Without thinking, he took a sip from the bottle and just about spit it up. "Horse piss. I swear it's horse piss-"

Jim took a swig and winced, "Wouldn't know. I've never had the occasion to try horse piss, Bones."

"I'm sure this a fair approximation." Nevertheless, he took another sparing sip.

"So, what's on your mind?"

"I've known you for… three days now, would y'say?"

"Three and a half."

"And a half. One and a half if you take soberness into account."

"I was sober! Believe it or not, I don't drive drunk." Jim slanted him a sharp look. "Uhura would nail my balls to the wall if I even mentioned it."

"Point is, why the hell should I be telling you anything, kid? Why the hell should you care?"

"Last time I'm going to say this, Bones. You and I are meant for the Enterprise; we're going to spend a lot of time watching each other's backs. That mean your business is my business and vice versa. I can't fix something I don't know anything about. Besides, I let you ride my bike, and I'm eating your food. That makes us friends."

"You got a funny idea of friendship, Jim."

"I don't see anyone else lining up for the position of Best Friend Ever. That makes it mine by default."

Bones really wasn't following the logic, but it had been a long time since anyone had wanted something from him other than his abilities. If this madcap kid wanted to spend a few evenings playing a game of twenty questions to figure out which of them was the more fucked up, Len was willing to go along with it. No one had ever actually bothered to ask his side of the story when Joss had filed for the divorce; his own family had sided with her, the courts hadn't been interested and Starfleet would have overlooked anything short of murder to have a surgeon of his skills in their ranks.

It was a good thing then that they hadn't done too much digging into his past. The law wouldn't differentiate between Len's honest attempt to spare his father a lingering, painful death and premeditated murder. The courts would not care that it had been the last request David McCoy had made of his son. _That_ was something he was not up for discussing; not now, not ever, and most especially not with Jim.

Leonard eyed the bottle in his hands; it tasted like piss, sure, but it also felt familiar. That made him more than a little uncomfortable- he knew all about slippery slopes; today it would be this bottle, and by this weekend he might well be permitting himself just one glass of the real thing… only it never ended at a single glass, and he'd find himself drunk and alone again.

"Gimme a second." He rose and made his way to the kitchen, pouring the foul stuff away. He didn't see Jim gaping at him in confusion, soon replaced with understanding. Jim set his own bottle aside and made to go for the little corner where he'd tucked his other bottle, but Bones was already heading back by then.

"You've seen Joanna."

Jim settled back against the wall, sensing that this was a crucial moment; Bones could have been listed in the computers under the definition of "reluctance." This was a story he wanted to tell, but one wrong move and he'd clam up and never say another word again. Jim nodded, not wanting to break the uneasy line of communication.

"She's a good girl. Got her mama's common sense and my stubbornness. She's going to make something of herself one day." Bones smiled painfully, "She'll put me to shame, I'm sure."

Leonard settled gingerly on the edge of the bed. "But I'm not going to see it unless I get back on track."

Jim made a small sound of encouragement, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. This was the crux of Bones' sudden devotion to beating those flight sims, this was the reason he had approached a complete stranger and done something entirely foreign to his nature- requested help.

Bones buried his face in a hand, plainly trying to organize his thoughts and failing miserably. "Her mother's name is Jocelyn. Jocelyn Darnell." Bones looked to him like the name should mean something, but Jim had never heard it.

His fleeting smile was genuine at least. "Back home, it would mean something. The Darnells own a controlling interest in a lot of the industry of our little corner of the world."

Shit. Was Bones reading his thoughts now too?

A few strained minutes passed where Jim tried to pretend he was deeply absorbed in spooning up broth and Len sucked his teeth while he tried to decide how much of himself he was willing to betray to a relative stranger- a relative stranger that had agreed to help him with his exams in exchange for nothing more than an assurance that he would do the same when Jim challenged the Maru again. A stranger that, for all his joking and lightheartedness, had given up no small secret himself; there was something beneath the playboy exterior. It might even be something Leonard could relate to.

"Joss and I were high school sweethearts. We married a week after I got my degree." He wanted that beer now, alcohol or not, and was glad he'd made the decision to toss it out before it had come to this. Thankfully, Jim had set his aside completely too.

"Things started going wrong before the year was even out. I spent too long at the hospital, she said. I loved my job more'n my family; we argued a lot and eventually I started takin' any shift I was offered. Started drinking, too; nothing serious, at first, but it meant I was away more than ever- if I wasn't at the hospital I was holed up in some dive with a few drinks. Joss couldn't stand the smell of it on my breath-" Too much, too fast. He didn't need to say this much, but he'd never been able to say it before and so it all spilled out of him regardless.

Jim was watching attentively, making a small noise of understanding every few minutes. There was no pity reflected in his eyes, no judgment, just a determination to understand. It was uncomfortable. It was a relief.

"She wanted children, I didn't. We were already fighting, and I didn't want to complicate it further. I was already considerin' divorce, and our first anniversary not even up yet; every time I brought it up it turned into another drawn out argument. And then she told me she was already pregnant, just a couple months along." Bones smiled self-deprecatingly, voice growing rough, "And I din't realize I still had it in me to be that damn happy."

"For a while everything was fine. We agreed it would be better to hold the marriage together, wanted our baby to have its best chance. We both thought that if we were focused on her, it would be fine. I came home earlier, knocked off the drinking, Jocelyn stopped blamin' me every time there was an emergency and it all became routine 'til the little one came along. Jojo was the best thing to happen to us and we both knew it."

Bones cleared his throat, "She was so sick, so frail. Two months too early and already ill with something Joss had come down with. I didn't think my little girl was goin' to last out the week. Jocelyn and I took to using each other again, for support."

Jim tactfully fixed his gaze on his bowl while Bones worked at keeping the moisture in his eyes from turning to tears. He wouldn't even have the excuse of drunkenness this time.

"And then everything came out all right; between the care she was receiving and her own willfulness, Joanna managed to pull out of it. A month later and no one could tell there'd ever been a thing wrong with her. Hardly been sick a day in her life since, either."

Leonard could feel the old anger rising up again; "So we muddled along for a few more years; I was in line for a promotion and I had more work than ever. Joss thought I was having an affair."

He could see Jim's jerk out of the corner of his eye, lips turning down into something dangerously like a scowl. It was intoxicating, now that he was actually speaking, having someone actually hear and believe what he was saying for once.

"I guess she decided turnabout was fair play, because I came home one night and found her fucking a stranger in our bed with my child sleeping just downstairs. A fucking _stranger_ she'd picked up in the bar. She didn't know a damn thing about him short of his name and she brought him into my goddamn home with my baby girl-"

"Son of a bitch." Jim muttered.

"It was over then. I knew it, she knew it. I dragged the bastard outside and thrashed him; I wasn't thinking straight. Took Joanna and went to my mother's house for the night. Joss called the police, reported a kidnapping and assault."

"Bitch." Jim snarled.

"They took Joanna back to her and I spent some time cooling my heels in a cell. They were good enough to drop the kidnapping, and given the circumstances I got off easy for the assault. Jojo was fucking terrified, and I was furious. It didn't look too good when Jocelyn filed for divorce; they made note of the assault, even the drinking from years back. I lost my job for that. Joanna was listed as her primary caretaker since I was mostly working at the hospital. Jocelyn pushed for everything: child support, alimony, sole custody. I'd've given her anything except that."

Bones growled softly, "My own mother weighed in on her side, said I wasn't fit to be a father anymore, and insinuated I might hurt Jojo for what her mother'd done. It was bullshit and she knew it, but she figured it was better my daughter was raised with the Darnells than as a McCoy. Insisted it was her best chance and a girl ought to stay with her mother."

There was more to it than that. Far more; Mrs. McCoy was no fool, and she had threatened him with knowledge of what had happened to David. A mercy it might have been to let his father take his rest, but not in the eyes of the law. If he had lost his license to practice then, Leonard knew he would never have even the smallest chance of seeing Joanna again; worse yet, if she had to see her daddy confined to prison… it didn't bear thinking on.

Jim didn't need to know. He would take that to his grave.

"Starfleet had been trying to recruit me for a couple years by then; I wasn't sure if they would even take me after the shit storm that the divorce turned into, but I thought maybe if I could join up it would give me enough clout to go for joint custody rather than just visitation. It hasn't worked out that way yet, but if I can show that I have a career in Starfleet-"

"You could push for it."

"Exactly."

Jim leaned forward, eyes sharpening again. He looked more serious than Leonard had seen him before, and there was no hint of the customary joie-de-vivre present in his tone when he spoke again. "You should have been able to pin her on the adultery- child endangerment possibly; I wonder whether you might be able to make a case for a false report of kidnapping? How did she slip out of that one?"

Leonard blinked; he hadn't considered even trying for that last.

"Darnell. Names still carry weight some places, Jim. And I don't want her to end up charged with anything serious; Jojo's been through enough."

Jim drummed his fingers on his knee impatiently, "Names don't mean that much, Bones. You should have a word with your adviser, see if Starfleet won't offer you any legal support now-"

A sharp bang interrupted whatever Jim had intended to say next, and his calculating expression vanished beneath one of surprise. "Shit! I forgot!"

"The beer. You tried to mix the damn beer in my quarters, Jim? I am not cleaning it up." Just like that the tension was broken, and Leonard was grateful for the distraction; it had been one thing to confide his burdens, but now Jim seemed determined to shoulder some of their weight, and that made him a little uncomfortable. That was something a friend would do, and he was beginning to wonder if that might not be exactly what Jim was to him, short acquaintanceship or not.

He needed to think.

Jim bolted over to the corner, and Leonard stared in confusion at the mess of wires and glass and liquid scattered everywhere. "You set up an electrocution hazard in my room-"

"Don't worry, I got this. I was just using the wire to give it a bit of a buzz, warm it up a little faster."

"Which wire?"

Jim pulled back, sucking at his fingers. "Damn glass."

"Don't handle it with your bare hands, idiot! Now, which wire?"

"Maybe the one that goes to your entry pad."

"Maybe?"

"I think. I've never actually done this so-"

Bones marched to the door, listening for the gentle hum from the entry pad; he ran his fingers over the device- nothing.

"Open the door." He snapped. No response.

Slowly, Leonard turned back to Jim. "You shorted out the whole system, Jim. This really couldn't wait until you were safely in your own rooms?"

Jim still knelt on the floor like a supplicant, glass shards swept up into a tiny pile, shaking his head at the puddle of liquid. "Sorry, Bones." He sighed deeply, "I'm really sorry. I'll clean this up quickly. You can stay at my place until maintenance comes around to fix this."

"And how do I explain this?" He was oddly calm, already deciding which bed in sick-bay he would claim tonight. He was not about to join Jim for a sleepover, that had 'disaster' written all over it in big, red letters.

"You don't; it's on me. I'll drop by on my way back from class and have a word."

Leonard nodded. "Fine. You get on to your class; I can take care of this."

"You said it yourself, this is my mess. I got it."

"Dammit, Jim. Get a move on; I need to get this cleaned up before I go anywhere and with everything shorted out like this I'm going to have a hell of a time accomplishing anything at all. I do not want to be tripping all over you!"

"Like I said, you can use my place. It's not half as bad as it looks, and the couch folds out into a bed."

"Out, Jim." Bones gestured pointedly to the door. "Assuming you can even get the blasted thing open."

Jim stood, dusting off his pants and turning to the door; with some effort, he managed to pry the door open. "Getting out isn't the problem. Getting in might be a little tricky until it's fixed- hence why you'll want to stay at my place."

"I'll think about it if you'll _go_ already." Leonard growled; he was half-expecting some smart-ass comment about Uhura's earlier dismissal, but Jim stepped out quickly.

"Out of your hair, Bones." Jim threw a playful salute, trying for a smile and falling pitifully short. Justified frustration or not, Len felt a little guilty for that kicked puppy look Jim was trying so hard to hide.

Leonard almost called him back twice, but in the end he just didn't have the backbone for it. He'd let slip a lot more in the heat of anger than he had ever intended; now he just needed a few hours to figure out exactly how he felt about that.


	7. Candid Conversations

Leonard swept and scrubbed his floor thoroughly, determined that not even the tiniest speck would slip past him. He'd have been more comfortable forgetting this afternoon's events entirely, but since that wasn't possible he would settle for removing any evidence of it.

What in the ever living hell had possessed him to unburden himself so thoroughly to Kirk? "Bitch-fest", Jim had said, implying they could both jaw about their little annoyances; he had loped ahead and given Jim his whole damn story, or at least all the relevant bits. There was no way Jim was going to leave it there either, he'd already been scheming when he'd been practically shoved out the door. Not content with the debt Len was already going to owe him for this tutoring business, now he thought he would just step in and manage the domestic trouble too.

Hell, he'd practically handed the kid an engraved invitation. Nothing for it but to speak with him again, ask him to pardon a frustrated man that had just wanted a sympathetic ear- not a nanny to hold his hand and walk him through it. It had been a relief of sorts, and his thoughts were clearer for having been expressed, but that was as far as he wanted it to go.

Len glanced at the time, faced with the sudden urge to comm Joanna and banter with her for a moment or two. She would be at school; no need to worry about Joss breathing down her neck while she tried to speak candidly with her dad.

He cast a disgusted glance at the mess; this place would reek of that foulness for days if he didn't get it up soon enough, but if he didn't talk with Jo while he had the chance it would put him in a black mood for a week. Clearly taking a little break would be the lesser of two evils; his instructors would thank him for it.

His PADD was firmly in hand before he had even finished the thought, and Jojo's face flickered into view before he could think better of the impulse.

"Daddy." God, that was his favorite word, hands down- especially accompanied as it was with that mischievous quirk of the lips that Joanna insisted was her very best smile.

"What class have I saved you from, Jo?" He grinned unapologetically; these were awful habits to be teaching his daughter, intellectually he knew that. Intellectually, he couldn't be bothered to give half a damn today. Jo was a model student ninety percent of the year, she could afford a ten minute break to speak with a father she hadn't seen face-to-face in months.

Joanna shook her head, "Track and field. No classes." Any guilt that might have been lingering in the back of his mind was instantly dispelled; 'track and field' had always been set aside as the day Leonard would write Jo a sick note and spirit her away for ice cream and fishing with no one the wiser. Her peculiar smirk broadened into a full-fledged grin to match his own.

"Taking any ribbons home?"

"A couple for effort." A wrinkled nose and furrowed brow let him know exactly what she thought of that, but the light blush that spread over her cheeks said she was pleased. "And a blue for sprinting."

"All in a good day's work."

"I'm going to take the blue for the long-jump in about twenty minutes." She would too, or break both her legs working for it. Leonard personally hoped for the former.

"Then I'll just wish you luck with that now."

"I don't-"

"Need it, I know. Humor me this once and take it. That aside, you want to explain to me why your PADD is out there gatherin' dust?"

Joanna shrugged, "I didn't want to miss you."

"Oh." What was a man supposed to say to that anyway? 'Sorry' didn't even begin to cover it, and there was little else he could think of to say.

"That bad?"

Leonard glanced up at her worried tone, "That bad what?"

"Your day. Is it that bad?" Too sharp, far too smart for his peace of mind and getting better every day.

"I'd say it's going pretty good, baby girl." He smiled wider, lips quivering imperceptibly with the effort of fixing the expression on his face. "Even better for seein' you."

Joanna's arched brows and pursed lips let him know this little chat had officially crossed into the realm of overly-emotional as far as she was concerned. She re-directed the topic none too subtly, breaking eye contact with him before she would speak again.

"I have to get ready for the next event. When are you coming home?" She choked slightly on that last word, recovered quickly with no sign of distress save for a blush that was at least half sunburn. Hadn't Joss sent her out with any sort of protection? Sun screen, or even a cap? Irresponsible, he called it; part of childhood, Joss insisted, but she had kept a supply of lotion in the house ever since Len asked her whether melanoma was also a part of childhood, and he counted that a victory.

Seeing the beginnings of a pout forming, Leonard dragged his thoughts back to the matter at hand. "Soon as I'm done here. Won't be more'n a few months. You'll be out for summer break by then." And if Joss didn't like it she could damn well file for a restraining order.

Jo nodded firmly, "Good. I miss you."

"I'll be back soon enough." And gone again before he was ready.

Jo glanced away, "I need to go. Comm me this weekend?"

"You bet your pretty blue ribbons I will."

"Love you." She signed off before he had a chance to tell her that as always he still loved her too. More, in fact. Just like that his day was brighter, and Leonard decided he could deal with the problem of a meddling Jim if and when he presented himself. No use worrying about something that might not come to pass after all.

So he repeatedly told himself while he scrubbed the setting stains from his floor, but even in his thoughts it lacked conviction.

!

!

!

True to his word, Jim dropped by maintenance no more than ten minutes after his unceremonious eviction from Bones' quarters; from the looks on their faces it was almost like they had never heard anything so outlandish as his story of loose wires and spilled beer. Not even a light-hearted quip about alcohol abuse could convince them Jim wasn't lying through his teeth, but he heard one of the seniors in attendance dispatching a junior to check it out as he left.

Jim was ready to admit the idea hadn't been half so clever in execution as it was in thought. On the bright side, Bones would need a place to stay until his door was fixed; Jim was confident they would be the very best room-mates in the history of the academy. Maybe Bones would decide it wasn't so bad having a live-in tutor and elect to stay; the likelihood of that was vanishingly small, but men were meant to dream.

That wasn't his primary concern though- wasn't even in the top three. At the moment, his top three goals were firstly to get Bones through this next month with passing marks, secondly to find a way around the stalemate that was the Kobayashi Maru, and finally to convince Pike that Starfleet needed to invest in their best medical cadet enough to intercede on his behalf.

That last wouldn't be a problem; Jim had no doubt that as soon as maintenance had a look at McCoy's room and heard his side of the story, Pike would have him dragged front and center before that impressive desk once more. From there it was only a matter of tweaking the conversation a little, enough to peak Chris' interest in Leonard and convince him that this case deserved a second glance.

Jim knew from experience Pike had a cleverly concealed soft spot for men with unfulfilled potential.

With the facts Bones had related, it wouldn't take much to make a case for emotional hardship; that would ensure Bones had the time he needed to prep for that final sim. If his superiors could toss in a character reference and a glowing recommendation it might be enough to tip the scales in his favor once more. He could appeal for joint custody, visitation rights, maybe even reduce the alimony he owed. Ships' surgeons were not typically paid half so well as dirt-side physicians, and Jim found he desperately wanted to stick it to the bastards that had made Bones so miserable.

Of course all of this would necessitate McCoy's full cooperation, and Jim didn't think he'd be too keen to assist. Jim was pretty sure Bones must have been a mule in a past life to be as stubborn as he was; the trick would be to convince him that it would be the very depths of selfishness _not_ to accept Jim's help.

Joanna would be the deciding factor; if Jim could make the case that all of this was for her well-being, Bones would dive right in without looking back.

Damn but he was a manipulative asshole. Jim hoped good intentions counted for something, or karma was going to be a royal _bitch_.

Jim slowed, realizing if he wasn't too careful he might actually arrive early for his session. No use setting a precedent for arriving early; punctual was good enough.

Bones' whole confession did rather throw a kink in his brilliant plan for winning Uhura's name though. He'd have to be an asshole of the highest degree to use a man's misfortune against him for the sake of a stupid bet, and while Jim knew he could be a little cavalier, Bones' friendship meant more to him than that. It just wouldn't be sporting.

Besides, he wanted Bones to want him for his own sake, not because of some misguided sense of debt; that would just be wrong.

This wasn't going to be comfortable, having to forfeit the bet. Uhura would crow triumphantly and twit him mercilessly about it for months, and Gaila would probably tell the whole campus Jim was too chicken-shit to carry through.

In the end it was going to be worth it though, because he _would _trip Bones into his bed eventually, and they would still be a package deal everywhere else as well. Maybe if he played his cards right he could even manage it within the month Uhura had given him, rebound revenge sex was not to be underestimated, but he wouldn't push it. Jim prided himself on his ability to recognize glowing opportunities; he'd seen it in a little red convertible Corvette when George had left him alone, he'd seen it in a little bar in Iowa sitting across from him after a brawl he still remembered fondly, and he recognized it now in a gruff Southern doctor with about as much emotional baggage as himself.

Jim was determined not to fuck this one up. He was playing for keeps, and he was willing to take his own sweet time with it if he had to.

!

!

!

* * *

Uhura straightened her skirt for at least the dozenth time in ten minutes, running her fingers through smooth hair just once more. It was only Spock, she assured herself; as far as he was concerned, she could do no wrong. Then again, picking this for her final dissertation might well be change all that. She was already second-guessing herself; this was exactly the sort of stunt Jim would approve of, and that was never good.

"Cadet Uhura, is there a reason you have chosen to remain in the corridor approximately one minute twelve seconds after your appointment was scheduled to begin?"

Uhura's confidence came skipping back as though it hadn't abandoned her just a moment ago for more agreeable company somewhere far away. This was something she was more than accustomed to dealing with.

"I thought you might need a moment to organize your thoughts after Macgyvers." She'd seen the tears on the other cadet's cheeks when she hurried out the door. For all his self-possession, Spock still hadn't quite figured out what was required of him when humans started shedding moisture. This typically led him to freeze and stand silently by, observing for any other symptoms of distress with which he was more familiar and therefore capable of responding appropriately.

"A curious expression, the idea that thoughts may in any way be disorganized-"

Uhura recognized the symptoms of a swiftly-approaching a philosophical ramble and nipped it firmly in the bud. "I see you're prepared however, and in the interest of punctuality I am ready to begin." She smiled widely for good measure, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Spock dipped his head after only a moment's hesitation.

He spoke over his shoulder as he slipped back into his office, pristinely arranged and coldly sterile. "I assume you are here to discuss the topic for your upcoming paper?"

"Correct." Uhura's smile took on an amused edge; "I would like to combine my research with a sociological angle."

Spock tilted his head, dark eyes noting a change in her expression yet unable to pinpoint a specific cause, "In what way?"

Uhura smirked, "I intend to analyze Romulan dialects with a focus on profanity, documenting instances of specific categories of profanity- those dealing with excrement, intercourse, and others- with examples of non-occurring categories, to be specified at a later date. I will then correlate my findings with pre and post-reform Vulcan profanity. I imagine that, since they share a common linguistic and sociological root they might have been quite similar at conception. Post-reform, as values changed, I postulate that Romulan and Vulcan ideas of the sacred and profane have sufficiently diverged so as to be mutually incomprehensible. In short, the dialects have come to form their own linguistic family."

Even if he denied her the right to research this topic, it was worth the proposal just for the look on his face; Uhura was certain she had never seen his brows rise quite that high, on a Human's face she would have called that look "confounded."

"Of what possible merit would this report be? There is no basis for your theory that one may predict the sacred from the profane-"

"Any number of reports already exist on the topic. A quick search of the database will uncover at least half a dozen."

"No scientific evidence exists to either prove or disprove the theories laid down therein."

"Then allow me this small attempt to establish that evidence. Romulan dialects are among my specialties, and given their common ancestry with Vulcans it only makes sense to perform a comparative analysis of the cultures toward that end. Comparing these cultures pre and post-reform will allow me to note any similarities between the cultures at those respective points, study whether there is any change in what is accounted profane and whether it touches in any way on values that are held sacred."

He wanted to argue, she could see that. He straightened his shoulders instead, pretending disinterest though the very tilt of his head suggested indignation. "The final choice is yours of course, Uhura, but I believe your time would be better employed researching other phenomena. Your talents lend themselves to greater work than this."

"Qualitative statements aren't strictly fair, Spock. Until the data has been collected analyzed and distributed it will be impossible to predict its impact."

"A comparative cultural analysis of profanity." He shook his head, "I had hoped you would focus your efforts in the field of phonology, you have a talent in that direction. In the end, it is your choice." That was an unmistakable smirk spreading across his face, "It is also your scores in question; I will not interfere with your efforts."

The unspoken 'no matter how wrong-headed they may be' floated at the end of that sentence, but all in all, Uhura was content with the tone of the meeting. There were no regulations specifically stating a cadet couldn't have a little fun in the pursuit of academic excellence, and she had been exceptionally restrained for the duration of her studies. This could not hurt anything in the end.

"Thank you, sir." She slipped out of the office before he could reply, a lively spring in her step and a beaming smile on her face. If nothing else, it would make for a good story the next time Kirk tried to needle her about her pristine academic record.

!

!

!

Jim peeked through the auditorium's window, pinpointing his favorite seat, situated at just the right angle that he could keep his professor in sight while he himself remained invisible to the central podium. There was only one problem- his seat was taken. By Sulu.

If his playful grin was anything to go by, this was payback for the whole room-booking incident yesterday. Fine. Adaptability was a quality expected in a Starfleet captain, and Jim knew that was exactly where he'd eventually end up; this was only practice. He stepped through the doors, tipped an acknowledging nod to the would-be pilot in his chair; was he really all that noticeable or had Chekov pointed out his seat?

Sure enough, with another few steps he could finally see Chekov's curly hair; he was sunk far enough into his chair that he was all but invisible until Jim was level with the aisle. He sat bolt upright, waving ecstatically and patting the seat beside him like it might run away if he didn't keep a hand on it. Was there anything at all that didn't excite this kid? Jim was fairly certain even he had never been quite this jumpy, but Chekov's scores spoke volumes for his competence and if that came with a side of crazy energy Jim wasn't about to complain.

His comm chirped just as he began the laborious process of crawling over everyone else's laps to make his way to the place that had been saved for him. Pike. Already. Fuck, he wasn't ready yet.

Hissing apologies to battered toes that he tripped all over despite his best efforts, Jim accepted the message.

"My office tomorrow. Directly after class, Jim." Jim chuckled fondly; Chris would never dream of abbreviating his messages any or leaving out punctuation for the sake of haste; he'd spent too many years scrupulously documenting everything that went down aboard his vessel for later review.

Biting his lip to keep from laughing aloud at his own genius, Jim sent back a short and sweet "Y".

He quickly switched off the communication function and settled beside Chekov, eyes twinkling at the thought of Pike's frustration. He was probably trying to call right now, and he would be none too pleased when no response was immediately forthcoming. There would be hell to pay, but it was usually worth it.

Jim leaned over, only now realizing that Chekov had been speaking to him. "…Wery interesting, yes?"

When in doubt, nod like an idiot. Winona had told him that was the first thing any cadet learned at the academy, and the first thing they would do well to forget the first time they were included in a landing party. It had landed him in more than a few fights even here on his own planet, so Jim had only himself to blame for his shock when Pike stepped from the doorway to the podium.

"Chekov, what's Pike here for?" Shit. Oh shit, had he actually come personally to deliver his message?

"No. It is wery interesting that a keptin would agree to teach. You agreed."

Oh. Well then. Pike's gaze flew straight to his usual place; he was clearly shocked to find Kirk absent, scanning the surrounding area for any sign of his errant pupil. Jim waved his fingers cheekily, almost regretted it when Chris fixed him with the not inconsiderable force of his glare.

Hell to pay.

!

!

!

An hour and a half of lecture, fifteen minutes of freedom, and Jim was both surprised and a little nervous to find Pike hadn't already exacted his vengeance for the flippant reply to his message. He'd half expected to be called down from his lofty perch to answer for his conduct as soon as the class had started; instead Pike had simply cleared his throat and begun speaking as though every student in the class wasn't scrambling for their PADDs to take notes or make a recording.

For an hour he'd done nothing but talk old school tactics. The Art of War, Han Feizi, The Instructions…old texts that couldn't possibly apply to modern engagements. Jim was certain he would never need to know the difference between a dust cloud raised by foot-soldiers and one caused by a cavalry. Theta-seven would prove him wrong on that count not two months into his first five-year mission, and Jim would bless Pike for drilling that distinction into his head today.

The last half hour or so he had finally begun to examine relevant material; a captain's duty to his crew in peace, his obligations in war, when self-sacrifice was necessary and when there was no choice but to delegate the task to another. Pike never once looked directly at Jim during that pretty little speech, but Jim felt the weight of his attention regardless. It was a relief when Pike had finally stepped down and dismissed the class.

Jim had lingered for another ten minutes afterward, waiting to see if Pike would seize the opportunity to descend upon him; he'd been both relieved and disappointed when no such encounter had materialized. Their appointment for tomorrow still stood, meaning that he had time for one last item of business before he needed to return to his dorm for a little extra-curricular studying.

Uhura would be holed up in her dorm by now, probably elbows-deep in whatever topic she had finally settled on for her final report. With two months left to the semester, it wasn't too soon to be thinking of these things, and she was not in the habit of leaving her work to the last minute. Pity.

He rehearsed a very mature, very articulate speech on the nature of brotherhood and the importance of not betraying assumed bonds. He could begin with a basic recitation of the social contract, and end with dire warnings about the fate of gamblers. It would all sound quite convincing, and if he managed to keep a straight face then maybe Uhura would take pity and never mention the incident again. It would have been much easier if she had any bad habits to be exploited or embarrassing stories to relate; sadly, the worst he had on her was that time she'd smeared her still-wet nail polish during P.T.

And so it was that he found himself outside the door of her rooms, praying Gaila was still trapped in the linguistics lab and he could share his shameful confession in peace. Remembering McCoy's admonition, Jim knocked softly.

The door hissed open not a second later, and Uhura beamed benevolently as she gestured him in. That in and of itself was suspicious; Uhura didn't beam, and she never looked benevolent, and she never invited him in either, and was that skirt new?

"You're in a good mood. Something special on your mind?" As a conversation starter, it wasn't his best line, and Uhura picked up on the difference right away.

"You're in my home, that makes it your obligation to state your business first."

"State my business? Suddenly I feel like I've entered a maximum security facility."

"You're not far off." She arched a brow expectantly, not volunteering anything more.

"Hell, this would be so much easier if you were Gaila."

Uhura pointedly turned her back on him, striding over to her bed and settling on the edge of it with legs primly crossed and hands folded neatly in her lap. Was there anything she could do that wouldn't look professional- Jim was not ashamed to admit he envied her poise; that look took him straight back to childhood and all the times he'd had to stand and recite the laundry list of trouble he got into when Winona was away.

All his planning deserted him right then; all he could offer was a rushed, too-loud "The bet's off."

She didn't speak, just frowned slightly, head tilted at an inquisitive angle.

"McCoy. Your name. It's not worth it."

"Not worth it?" Now she was starting to smile again, and it made him a little uncomfortable to be the subject of her amusement.

"Look, he's not himself right now, and I like him a lot- he's good friend material. Be kind of a dickish thing to do, using all that for the sake of a bet and a quick fuck-"

"So… you don't want to fuck McCoy? I thought bad boys in leather jackets and battered jeans were your thing?" She was still smiling like she knew all the secrets of the universe and then some; it seemed to be a talent shared by every female cadet on campus.

"Still my thing. So's Bones, which is why I'm dropping the bet. Dead serious, Uhura. I'm bailing. Right now. I don't want to fuck this up." Jim had never intended to add that last part, kicked himself when he saw the smile disappear to be replaced with thoughtfulness. How the hell did she always make him say more than he'd intended?

"That's really decent of you, Jim. I'm a little surprised-"

"Holy fuck, I can be a decent human being when there's something in it for me. Shocking."

"That's not what I meant." She snapped, "I just wasn't expecting- it doesn't matter. I'm glad."

Jim was still seething a little at her previous comment, intentional or not. He missed the words she uttered just loud enough to carry to him.

"What did you say?"

"Didn't catch that?"

Jim had a sickening feeling he knew exactly what 'that' was.

"What's your name?"

"I told you once and you ignored me."

"My eternal apologies. Did it start with an M? I think I heard an M."

"Keep trying, Kirk. You've got nothing."

"Rumpelstiltskin?"

"I swear to god, Kirk, I will _end_ you."

!

!

!

* * *

Bones reported for his shift in sickbay ten minutes to the hour. By the time his clock showed another hour had passed he was certain 'boredom' should be listed among the acceptable reasons for calling in sick.

Normally these hours just after midnight were the busiest, but on a weekday with the use of the clinic being restricted solely to students and personnel it was dead- as dead as the graveyard this shift was named for.

Twice now he had wiped down the counters, emptied the waste into the incinerator compartment, swept the floors in the unoccupied rooms. All he wanted to do was go home, dammit. Except that maintenance had told him in no uncertain terms he wasn't to enter his rooms again until they sent an all-clear. It was debatable whether he'd be able to keep his single room or not; maintenance seemed to feel none of this would have happened if he'd had a responsible room-mate.

The key word was 'responsible', and Leonard would have wagered every credit to his name they would never find another student willing to put up with his cantankerous nature for the rest of the year.

It didn't help that by the time he'd arrived to work half the clinic knew his business. Christine had greeted him at the door, arms folded across her chest, lips quivering with the effort of swallowing a smile. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she knew.

"So, Jim Kirk."

"What of him?" Len growled, taking inventory for the third time in as many hours.

"I never knew. When did that start?"

"When did what start? There's nothing starting. There was nothing to start."

"Uh huh."

And that was all it took to make him spill his guts about the bar and the tutoring and the beer disaster. Leonard was beginning to consider the possibility that he had a big mouth expressly designed for getting himsel into trouble.

"So you're staying with him then?"

"No. I'm staying here. Shouldn't be more'n a day or two for them to fix that up and then I'll be back in my own blessed bed."

"But until then you'll just stay in the lumpy, diseased, over-sized excuse for a pad I wouldn't give my favorite dog?"

"Din't know you had a dog."

"The principle applies. I don't think I'd wish that thing on my ex. And trust me, I wish just about everything else on him," Chapel muttered darkly.

"I don't want to owe him anything else, Chris."

"Speaking as someone who has been there and done that, I don't think it would be much of an imposition, Len."

"Crashed at Kirk's? Is he running a hotel out of his dorm?"

"Allow me to re-phrase: speaking as someone who has been there, done _him_, I don't think this is an opportunity you should pass up." That coy wink she finished with pissed Leonard off mightily for some reason. It was uncomfortable, finding that his closest colleague had dabbled with the only other friend he had on campus.

"You have jelly on your face, Doctor."

Leonard reached up to wipe his cheek before her meaning finally penetrated; annoyed as he was, he still couldn't help laughing with her.

"Does that mean you'll stay with Kirk?" Chapel grinned at his scowl. Damn woman was always trying to hook him up with this cadet or that, insisted revenge sex was the best cure for a bad break-up and she had the experience to say so. If he stayed at Jim's place now she'd tell everyone they were fucking whether it was true or not; it wouldn't be, Leonard well knew the value of the old adage "Don't foul your own nest."

"I don't know, Christine; something tells me it would lead to trouble."

"I think you could use a little bit of the right kind of trouble, but you're free to use the rack if you want it." Her cat-and-canary smirk said clearly she knew a night on the mattress of horrors would change his mind.

!

!

As it happened, ten minutes of tossing about on the glorified trash heap was enough to convince McCoy that a warm couch was worth any amount of well-intentioned meddling. Heaven knew he had enough experience with couches, they were practically a second home. Besides, it was nearly five in the morning and Kirk probably wouldn't even be fully conscious. By the time they rose for classes, maintenance would have his room fixed and he could have that talk with Jim about the importance of dealing with Joss on his own.

Then everything would go back to normal, and Christine could stop smiling devilishly every time she thought he wasn't looking.

Jim's dorm was farther from the clinic than his own, but the cool air and silent ground calmed his rushing thoughts. By the time he arrived at Jim's building, he was feeling positively sanguine.

That easy feeling disappeared the very second he pressed the chime. The door slid open softly, no noise to signal that it admitted a guest. Seemed Jim had been tampering with his own wires as well. Leonard stepped in, surprised to find that Jim hadn't bothered to wake at all.

He lay sprawled on his bed, blankets spilling onto the floor despite the morning's chill, PADD clenched loosely in one hand and pillows bunched up behind his head. The lights were still on at a dim setting, and it looked like Jim hadn't intended to drop off to sleep just yet; Leonard had pulled a few of those himself.

He made his way over, rested a hand on Jim's shoulder and shook slightly. Poor kid could hardly even open his eyes, but he managed a credible smile. "Hey, Bones."

"Mind if I take that couch you mentioned?"

"Sure thing, Bones. All yours." He waved vaguely, trying to pull himself up into a sitting position and failing miserably. "Stay down, kid. I got this. Couches and I go way back."

Jim snorted, "I bet." And he was gone again, Len wondered if he would even remember the conversation come morning.

Checking to be sure he was well and truly asleep, Len gently tugged the blanket from beneath him and spread it over him; he removed the PADD to the bedside table and ordered the lights to dim another ten percent.

Exhausted in mind and body himself, Len just barely managed to kick his boots off and hit the couch before he was gone to the world.

!

!

!

* * *

To clarify- No, no it's not that easy. Jim does have a special way of mucking things up


	8. A Good Cause

Jim woke slowly, grumbling at the insistent chime of his PADD; how the hell did sunrise always seem to come just a few minutes after he had finally fallen asleep? It took him less than a minute to realize something was different this morning; his skin fairly prickled with awareness, a peculiar sense of excitement unfurling within him that brought an unexpected grin to his face. His ears caught the quiet sound of fabric rustling and memory returned immediately; he vaguely recalled Bones shaking him awake, asking to use his couch- there was no acceptable answer save yes.

Evidently the good doctor had seen fit to take him up on the invitation. His fatigue was instantly dispelled, and had he been a less considerate sort of man Jim might well have leapt from his bed and tap-danced over to the couch to bid his erstwhile room-mate good morning. He would have had to be a great deal more reckless too, Bones would probably lay him out flat if he tried that stunt at the unholy hour of 0600.

Jim threw the covers off carefully, clamping his jaws shut to hold back a satisfied hum. Bones was here, in his apartment, sleeping on his couch. Score one for Team Kirk! He hurried to start the coffee, valiantly ignoring the shadowed form on his couch just long enough to pour himself a mug. He set it down decisively, tip-toeing over to the couch and leaning over the edge to look down into Bones' sleeping face. It just wouldn't do to be the only one awake.

"Bones." He whispered, "Psst, Bones. Wake up. I have coffee."

McCoy's eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly, connecting forcibly with the other man's nose before falling back to the couch, rubbing his forehead.

"Dammit, Jim!"

"Shit, Bones. I might have known 'coffee' was the magic word to wake you up." Jim clutched his nose tightly, "I think you made me bleed."

"Tilt your head back and pinch your nose, idiot. You'll get over it." Bones smirked at the nasal quality of his voice, lips widening to an honest grin when Jim tried to glare threateningly over his clenched fingers.

Jim snorted, wincing with pain. "Definitely bleeding. I blame you." He scurried away to the bathroom, returning with a tissue pressed to his face. He hurried back to the couch, fully prepared to finish this battle only to find that Bones had curled himself into the armrest and fallen asleep once more. Jim didn't have the heart to wake him twice.

!

!

He finished off his coffee quickly, wincing when the liquid scalded his tongue and burned the whole way down his throat; it was a small price to pay for being awake, particularly with a navigation seminar on the schedule.

Nav in the morning, combat with McCoy in the afternoon… and Pike's office in the evening; with any luck, maintenance wouldn't have fixed Bones' door yet and they could hang out at his place. Little known fact, Jim Kirk was a huge fan of sleepovers when they involved grouchy med cadets with wicked sharp tongues and mercurial eyes.

Then there was the small matter of convincing Gaila that reprogramming the Kobayashi Maru was a fantastic idea; it shouldn't be much trouble if he phrased it as a challenge. Gaila was all too eager to prove her skills after years of being nothing more than the "giggly Orion." Jim knew he was an asshole to take advantage of that, but what was a little manipulation between friends? Besides, he needed a partner on the outside; Uhura and Bones would both be taking the part of bridge crew, and with her recently announced crush on Spock, Jim really wasn't sure he wanted to test Uhura's loyalty that way. Bones would be glad to pull one over on the pointy-eared bastard, but Jim wanted to see the look on his face when everything went _right_.

It was going to be glorious, and all he had to do was last out the month.

That was going to prove far more challenging than he counted on.

!

!

Jim trotted into the classroom a full six minutes early, beaming with cheer and bouncing with eagerness. The nervous first-years were quick to sense his mood, relieved smiles spreading through the room like wildfire. It took less than ten minutes for Jim to set them straight again, soon they were sinking into their seats, trying desperately to avoid his gaze lest he call on any one of them for an answer.

Silly kids; not one had noticed that he was calling on them in alphabetical order according to their middle names, and not one of them would have cared if they had actually done the required reading. Jim was willing to bet every last one of them would at least skim it from now on; except the brunette making eyes at him from the back corner, she would probably need a little more incentive. Damned if he was going to waste his time on her if she was determined to wash. Jim already had his hands full with another stubborn cadet that actually wanted to succeed, and if Bones ever bothered to make eyes at him… he could have anything he damn well wanted and then some.

The hour and a half flew by, mostly because Jim set the group a question every fifteen minutes or so and left them to argue the answer among themselves while he mentally reviewed the steps he would need to take in order to entangle himself so firmly in Bones' life the man forgot what it was like to live without him. The Maru ate up what little concentration was left; if he could just convince Gaila to initiate a sub-routine at some predetermined point in the test… it would all be smooth flying, so to speak.

To slip past the walls around that system would take a metric ton of work; he needed to start right now if he wanted even a hope of being ready.

By the time his class was filtering out the door, casting wary looks back at him and muttering amongst themselves, Jim had decided on just the tack he would take. He was also starving, and wonder of wonders there was a sleepy Bones in his room that should just be waking up for class and presumably cooking breakfast.

!

Jim made it back to his quarters in record time, taking every shortcut he knew and ignoring any attempts to catch his attention. By the time he arrived at his door, he was in soaring spirits, convinced of the absolute rightness of the universe and everything in it. He resisted the urge to call a greeting as he strode through the door, but only just. Damn good thing too, Bones was awake- barely, and he looked peeved.

"Hey, Bones. Don't you have class in an hour?" Not exactly the most diplomatic time to be bringing up breakfast.

Bones glared at him from beneath a wild mess of dark hair, "I fucking hate morning people."

Jim took that as his cue to shut up and start the coffee; it probably also wasn't a good idea that morning sex could go a long way toward fixing that. Jim was a stout supporter of morning sex, himself. Bones… maybe not so much.

"Coffee?" He smiled cheerfully.

"Coffee." Bones groaned, and that sleep-hoarse voice sent a bolt of lust through Jim that nearly made him fumble the mug. Damn that voice should be illegal.

Bones didn't so much as flinch when he took the hot cup in hand, didn't hesitate to take a deep sip, grimacing at the hot bitterness. "Sugar?" He rasped hopefully.

"Yes, darling?" Jim fluttered his lashes outrageously.

"Brat. I meant is there any chance of getting some sugar in this forsaken foxhole?" Seeing Jim's suggestive smirk he scowled, "Too early, Jim. I will gut you if you start your game before I have finished my first cup. Anyone ever told you not to come off so strong?"

Jim shrugged eloquently, "After your rant against my favorite kind of carbs, I thought there might be a problem with sugar too."

"Adding sugar to coffee doesn't count." His look said plainly he didn't want to hear another word on the subject. Jim wisely brought him a little sugar. Two teaspoons precisely, tapped against the edge until every extra grain fell back into the jar. It was worth it just to see Bones smile so contentedly.

"Now we can have a civilized conversation." He managed after half the mug had disappeared.

"Are you cooking breakfast?"

"I cooked supper, breakfast is yours."

"I think someone just said pancakes and hash-browns were on the menu." If that didn't scare him away, nothing would.

"With a side of bacon?" Bones smiled hopefully, looking up at Jim with bright hazel eyes through lashes too thick for any man. Jim knew he was doomed because if there had been such a thing as a bacon tree- and why the hell hadn't the greatest scientific minds of the century managed to grow a bacon tree?- he might have cut it down and laid it at Bones' feet in much the same manner George would have presented his lady with the head of a dragon.

"You're such a hypocrite." Jim muttered; given that he was already heading for the kitchenette, the words didn't carry much force.

"Every man has his mornings. You wouldn't believe it, but when I woke up earlier there was some kind of wild Jim-beast in my face. Smashed his nose for my trouble." Bones smiled wryly, and Jim decided right then every replicator on the Enterprise would be programmed to give Bones his coffee with two sugars and a whole rasher of bacon every morning if a happy, teasing Bones was the reward.

"Oddly enough, I would totally believe it." It wasn't every day a man was head-butted by his room-mate and told to get over it.

"How's your nose, kid?"

"Intact. Barely. More importantly, are you going to be in the first year's combat class again?"

"For the semester, in fact." Bones growled.

"Sweet. I'm thinking we should practice footwork."

"Yes, because the first thing I think in a brawl is 'where the devil are my feet?"

"You should. You'll trip if you're not careful. By the way, I have a meeting with Pike this evening; you should eat with Uhura and Gaila- they're as fanatical as you are about food."

"Can you stay on any one topic for more than a minute at a time? Christopher Pike, though. What kind of trouble are you in, Jim? And I can cook for myself as soon as I'm back in my room."

"That eager to get rid of me? Laws of the universe say you're stuck here for the week if you're that eager."

By the time Jim had finished burning the bacon to a crisp and spattering his kitchen with lumpy batter, McCoy was flirting with tardiness; when Bones finally shoved him aside and served the food, muttering dire imprecations under his breath, his lateness was assured.

He stomped out of the apartment when he was damned good and ready, not a moment sooner, Jim trotting faithfully at his heels.

"I am just too damn old for school."

"Miss too many classes, old man, and you'll never see the end of it."

All in all, it had been a very satisfactory morning; Jim hoped this strange mood might carry over to the afternoon.

!

!

!

Leonard caught himself on the verge of whistling that same damned tune Jim was always humming and bit his tongue viciously. One night in the kid's apartment and he was already absorbing Jim's peculiarities; come to it, there were probably things on that couch he didn't want to know about- what if he'd been infected? He'd scan it tonight and see what he came up with… or not, perhaps maintenance would have come around to his dorm by then.

There was no good reason for his cheerful mood that he could find. For the first time in three years he had waltzed into a class nearly fifteen minutes late, breakfast had been average- diplomatically speaking- and he had less than three hours of sleep to tide him over until heaven knew what time tonight.

If it wasn't some sort of infection from The Couch then it had to be that knock on the head; he must've hit Jim a little harder than he'd first thought.

Either he had to accept that explanation or admit that it had pleasant, sharing space with someone again. Having a friend to banter with over breakfast, even if he was a thrice-damned morning person.

Leonard reluctantly admitted that he had slept better this night past than he had since he first boarded that shuttle for San Fran. There was just something soothing about having another body in the room, hearing deep, even breathing interspersed with the occasional snore from Jim's quarter. He'd grown so used to sleeping next to Jocelyn's warmth, able to reach out and assure himself of her nearness at any time, waking up every now and then to sneak into Jo's room and listen to the sounds of a healthy child sleeping peacefully.

The familiarity of it had lured him into a sense of false security; maintenance needed to fix that door fast before he became accustomed to it again.

He felt better for it, though. He didn't even snap at Chapel when she leaned toward him to ask where he'd been this morning, grinning knowingly all the while. She'd recoiled when he smiled back, eyes wide with shock; he couldn't possibly be _that_ different.

While McCoy was by no means enthusiastic, every last one of his instructors commented on his near-manic energy, paling visibly when he turned a withering glare on them. He'd written chapters of the damned textbook for some of these courses, of course he knew what he was doing!

He wolfed down lunch in record time, oblivious to the puzzled glances he was receiving from classmates. For once, Len was actually looking forward to the silly little P.T. session; he needed to _move_.

Jim did not disappoint.

!

!

!

* * *

Jim was waiting for him in the quad, just outside the building where he'd just somehow survived his xenobiology lecture. Len eyed him askance, "How the hell did you know where I'd be?"

Jim shrugged, "Asked around?" He smiled sheepishly.

"Stalking is a crime, Jim." Len scowled, but there was no heat in his expression; Jim relaxed marginally.

"But is it stalking if I just… wait, never mind. It's stalking."

"Damn straight."

"It's not like I illicitly obtained your schedule or anything. I just dropped by medical and-"

Len groaned, "I am never going to live this down. Never."

"My bad?"

"Your bad."

That was enough to settle it; he was in far too good a mood to bitch about something so miniscule. Maybe a visit to medical was in order for him too.

Amazing. Bones' good humor had actually lasted longer than the dregs of his coffee cup. He was a little snippy, but not near so gruff as usual; Jim sort of, maybe, kind of missed gruff McCoy, but not so much that he wouldn't take advantage of the change. He seized the opportunity to sling an arm about Bones' shoulder- Jim was all about living dangerously- Bones stumbled slightly, muttered very uncomplimentary things about Jim's weight just loud enough to be heard, but he didn't actually move away.

By the time they reached the chalk ring where training was conducted, Bones had surrendered to the inevitable and twined a fist in Jim's shirt, using it to pull him in the appropriate direction. He was still a little huffy, but not exactly frustrated and they had actually managed to sustain a civil conversation without Bones calling him 'kid' even once. Progress!

So far as he knew, nothing had been accomplished with their little 'combat practice' except to put Bones back into his typical sour mood. Falling on your ass every ten minutes or so was enough to do that for any cadet; Bones really hadn't been kidding when he said he paid no mind to his feet.

Jim made a note to push him a little bit there too; he wasn't likely to wash for a little sloppy footwork, but the less chances taken the better. Besides, the man had a nasty left cross that had a way of drawing his opponent's attention away from that weird shuffling thing he did with his feet. Jim knew this from experience; his forearm would probably be tender for a few hours, and Bones would probably keep blaming himself until the bruise faded no matter how many times Jim assured him it was a risk of training.

As time marched steadily onward, Jim gradually became aware that the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach was not hunger at all but dread. Pike still wanted to see him. In less than twenty minutes.

Fuck.

"Jim, you alright?" Bones murmured, unconsciously reaching out a comforting hand. ""You're lookin' a little green around the gills."

"Gills?" Jim frowned, "Where are those located on a Human male exactly?"

"Don't be a smart-ass." Comprehension dawned slowly and Leonard grimaced with sympathy. "Captain Pike? You want me along?" His hesitance was obvious in both tone and body language, but Jim appreciated the offer.

"I got this, Bones." James T. Kirk did not cower behind friends. Besides, there was still a chance he could turn this meeting to his advantage, and he couldn't take the chance of Bones finding out that he was working on his behalf. He tried for a jaunty wave as he started off toward the administrative building but it came across as more of a final farewell.

"Jim!"

Jim turned, brows raised questioningly.

"Mind if I stay at your place another night?" Bones looked like he wanted to say more, maybe offer an explanation, but he couldn't think of one fast enough and shrugged instead.

Jim grinned so widely his face hurt, "Sure thing, Bones." He tipped a mocking salute and marched off with considerably more confidence in his stride.

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"Cocky son of a bitch." Len muttered half-fondly. He was sweaty and tired and he desperately needed a shower; better to stay at Jim's place- he had hot water. Eating with the girls didn't sound like such a bad idea either… dammit, why had he started thinking of them as 'the girls'? When had he even started thinking of-

Never mind. It wasn't good for a man to pry too deeply into his own psyche; unpleasant truths abounded and Len had swallowed enough of those to last a lifetime. He was going to grab a quick shower, eat supper with _cadetUhura_ and _cadetGaila_, and then get the hell back to Jim's room to study. It was too late to drop by maintenance anyway, and there was no use wasting a trip to his room just to find out if it had been repaired or not. No harm in giving them an extra day- and Jim could walk him through a few possible scenarios for his sim.

It all made perfect sense; even the Vulcan couldn't find a flaw in his logic.

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By the time Jim arrived at Pike's office he was more than ready for the task ahead. All he had to do was convince Pike that really, that whole near-beer incident could have happened to anyone, and no he hadn't been rifling through anyone's private files in his off time, and oh while they were on the subject, would Starfleet lend a little aid to a promising med cadet? It wouldn't be a problem… if his adviser was anyone other than Christopher Pike, bullshit detector extraordinaire.

Jim Kirk preferred to think of it as an extra challenge for good behavior.

"You're late." Chris didn't so much as look up from the PADD he was studying.

"By, like, a minute."

"Try three." Pike's lips didn't so much as twitch. Shit.

"It was for a good cause." Right now was as good a time as any to bring up Bones' custody dilemma if-

"James T. Kirk has found a cause?" Now Pike looked up, a spark of interest lit his face for a split second before he remembered exactly who he was addressing. "If it involves alcohol, probing restricted files or stopping along the way to arrange a hook-up then I regret to inform you it was _not_ a good cause."

"Are you inferring those possibilities from _my_ record or personal experience?" Jim essayed a charming smile, but Pike remained skeptical.

"I don't have the time to banter, Kirk. I'm sure you know why you're here."

Hell, no. Jim knew this trick; call the cadet in, probe his guilty conscience and get him to admit more crimes than Starfleet knew about.

"I'm sure I don't. Isn't that why I'm here, so you can tell me?"

Pike glowered, but there was something almost like appreciation in his gaze. "We can begin with the damage to cadet McCoy's quarters and end with a discussion on importance of respecting the privacy of your adviser's encrypted files"

"Could we start with a discussion about cadet McCoy and good causes; maybe end with a commendation?"

"I'll grant the former, not the latter. Provided you begin with the damage to cadet McCoy's living quarters."

So far so good. "Well, it's kind of a long story but I'll try to summarize: this Russian cadet walks into a bar-"

"I know cadet Chekov's part in this. I am interested in yours." Yikes. Poor Chekov.

"It was horse piss. Bones agreed. I thought, 'hey, with a little yeast I could actually have some beer-"

"But that necessitated a heat source; you rewired McCoy's controls to provide for your personal brewery and in typical Kirk fashion, allowed your project to get out of hand."

"If you knew the story, why'd you ask?"

Pike drew a deep breath, but otherwise managed to maintain his air of nonchalance; Jim was more than a little impressed- anyone else probably would have thrown him out by now.

"I cannot allow this to pass. A few months teaching cadets isn't going to do any good, and I would order you to repair the damage yourself except you are no kind of engineer." Pike grimaced.

"You're on report, son. You will not leave campus without clearance, you will not engage in any unapproved extracurricular activities, and you will make yourself available for any and all occasions where your instructors may require assistance."

"By 'unapproved extracurricular activities'-"

"No parties, Kirk. No social gatherings, no clubs, student or otherwise. Nothing."

"I'm tutoring-"

"You're not."

"Bones is going to wash if someone doesn't give him a hand. I'm giving him a hand." Jim glared belligerently back, surprised when Chris' whole posture relaxed.

"Some progress had been noted in his training log; I take it that's your doing?"

"That's all Bones. He just needed a hint."

Pike blinked slowly and Jim felt as though every part of him were being weighed once more. He really needed to meet Uhura, they'd get on famously.

Seeing that Chris wasn't inclined to speak, Jim began again. "I want it documented that Leonard H. McCoy is under emotional duress such that it is interfering with his studies, I would therefore request that a stay be placed upon his upcoming examination that he might-"

"Cut the bullshit."

Jim stared in open-mouthed consternation. Had Chris just-

"What is the nature of your interest in cadet McCoy and his circumstances?"

"He's my room-mate-"

"Because you destroyed his quarters. Was it deliberate?"

"No." But probably only because he hadn't thought of it first. Captain Pike didn't need to know that- at all.

Chris leaned back, casual once more. "Emotional duress?"

"He has a daughter, Joanna, and-"

"Do I want to know how you obtained the information?"

"I don't always flout regulation, sir."

"Given that you were delving through _my_ records, I am sure you understand my suspicion."

"I thought we were going to save your dissertation for last?"

Jim was pretty sure Chris was imagining the joys of throttling him.

"Long and short, Bones needs to see his kid. _Needs_. He can't. I'm hoping that's where Starfleet comes in- for a medical cadet as promising as McCoy, there has to be some sort of recourse-aid- available."

"Bones." Chris muttered, "Sawbones?"

Jim grinned.

Captain Pike folded his hands neatly in his lap, fixing Jim with his best stern glare. "Explain. I will see what can be done."

Yes, the universe loved him dearly. Beginning with Bones' explanation of the divorce proceedings, Jim laid everything bare, encouraged by Pike's occasional thoughtful nod. He didn't bother to point out they were both breaking regulation by discussing the personal affairs of another cadet; after his glance at Chris' record he didn't think either one of them particularly cared.

By the time he left the office, he had an assurance that Bones would be granted leniency for emotional duress, and a promise that Captain Pike would raise the issue of legal aid at the earliest opportunity. The only question now was whether he should inform Bones as such or let it come as a surprise.

Jim was partial to surprises, himself.

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Next chapter, things finally start to heat up. :p


	9. Living Arrangements

Leonard stepped out of the shower hesitantly, braced for the inevitable rush of cool air that sent goosebumps prickling along his skin. He wondered privately if this weren't half the reason Kirk had been summoned to his adviser's office this afternoon; it was unheard of for a cadet to have so many hot water credits to his name, a bit of creative re-appropriation on Jim's part was more than likely.

He had no problems benefiting from the fruits of Jim's dishonest toil in this regard at least; after all, it was only a suspicion and he'd tried a few similar things as a cocky med student with too little time on his hands for some of the mischief he'd gotten into.

Much as he hated to play into the kid's hands so easily, it was looking like an increasingly good idea to just relocate to Jim's dorm altogether; the offer had been made, and heaven knew Jim needed looking after. Hardly even a week acquainted and already he was stumbling into trouble of his own making left and right; if Len were entirely honest with himself, and he never was, he would have confessed that Jim's little trickeries added just the right amount of excitement to an otherwise dull routine.

If he were roaring drunk on wood alcohol and lack of sleep, he might also have admitted that he found Jim's devil-may-care smile endearing, and that an earnest look from those bright eyes was enough to set his heart racing. Not that he was going to do anything about that, there were plenty of younger cadets Jim could meddle with if he chose, and while staying in the same quarters might present a tempting opportunity, Leonard was well-acquainted with the old adage about fouling one's nest.

That didn't stop him from taking a few minutes to explore- all right, damn it, snoop- around the room while Jim was away. It was only fair, seeing as how Jim knew so much more about him. Most of the room seemed to be in lackadaisical disarray; Jim hadn't bothered with making his bed this morning, and the sheets were twisted, falling slowly off the edge of the bed. It was no wonder, really, Len had never met anyone who thrashed about so much in their sleep, chuckling or even whistling occasionally; he'd have given a lot to know what those dreams were about.

He'd taken care to put away the breakfast dishes himself, but there were others stacked on the counter with no sense of organization whatsoever, while clothes and other personal belongings dangled on his bed-posts or the chair by the desk. The upset offended Leonard down to his bones and before he knew what he was thinking, he was folding shirts and stacking plates and draping the sheets neatly over the bed where they belonged. If he was going to be sharing this space for any amount of time, concessions would have to be made both for Jim's love of disorder and his own compulsion to neaten and arrange things just so.

Damned if he was going to play the part of live-in maid though; Len made a point of leaving the dishes to be sanitized, and while the odd shirts were stacked on the chair, Jim could deal with his own socks, shorts and anything else Len stumbled on once his initial cleaning spree was through.

For all the lively chaos that pervaded the rest of the room, Jim's desk was scrupulously organized; PADDs stacked neatly in the left corner, odds and ends arranged in piles on the right and an open space where Jim could presumably work. Len couldn't help but be drawn to the little haven in the midst of madness; he flicked through the topics on the upper PADD, finding everything from warp theory to political commentary. The kid was no kind of fool for all his posturing, but that wasn't exactly surprising; the McCoys had never suffered fools gladly, and he was a true son of his father. He couldn't help but smile a little at the notes Jim had assembled on the topics: equations that were more Greek than numbers, personal comments on select politicians and their suspected sexual practices, a few doodles of starships thrown in for good measure and all of it topped off with entire paragraphs Jim appeared to be drafting for a valedictorian speech.

Leonard's conscience began to prick at him nearly halfway through the second paragraph; he was presuming far too much on such a short acquaintance, Jim's own dubious information-gathering tactics notwithstanding. Reluctantly he set aside the PADD, wrestling briefly with the question of whether he was morally obligated to inform Jim that he'd been prying. In the end, it was really the only thing to do, Leonard himself didn't much appreciate the thought of anyone rifling through his personal affairs.

Mind made up he found himself at loose ends, staring blankly around the room for something that might hold his attention for more than a few minutes at a time; much as he needed the practice, he couldn't bring himself to sit still long enough to study and his cleaning quota for the day had been thoroughly maxed out with Jim's mess.

The question then was whether he should wait for Jim, maybe arrange for a little comfort food in case that meeting with Pike hadn't gone so well or if he should go ahead and join Uhura and Gaila for that supper Jim mentioned. The debate didn't last long, eating with the others would give him a good chance to hear a few of the stories Jim either wouldn't think to tell or wouldn't want to.

Besides, he'd grown used to company these past few days, and somehow it felt wrong to stay alone in Jim's domain, waiting for a joking comment or a needling remark that didn't come.

Ten minutes later he was out the door and on his way to the women's dorm, wondering how the hell his life could change so quickly and whether he would continue to enjoy the newness of it. So far all signs were pointing to a positive response, but experience had taught him to be wary when something seemed too good to be true and he could feel the weight of that conviction settling in the darker corners of his mind even as he caught another grin tugging at his lips.

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Uhura didn't look the least bit surprised to see him when the door swished open, Gaila waved offhandedly, struggling to pull her boots on while finishing off a final spoonful of what must presumably have been supper.

"Jim said you might be coming, and Gaila's pulled another shift in the language lab."

Leonard winced, "How the hell does he always… never mind."

"Anticipate every action and plan an appropriate reaction? I think he's read too many of Starfleet's recommended strategy texts." Uhura shook her head despairingly, pulling Leonard into the room before he had a chance to reconsider.

"So it's okay for you to have men over, but the minute it looks like _I_ might have company it's all about regulations and curfews?" Gaila's teasing smile took the sting from the words, but Leonard tensed anyway, earning her a glare from her roommate.

"Exactly."

"Just wanted to be clear. I won't be back 'til late; you two have all the fun I can't." Gaila wiggled her brows outrageously, skittering out of the room before Len could decide if he was more amused or embarrassed; amusement was typically the safest route.

"Is she always so… ebullient?"

"Always. I think she wants to be Kirk when she grows up."

Just like that any potential for awkwardness dissipated, Leonard found himself laughing outright at the chagrined expression on Uhura's face.

"Can't imagine what it's been like managing both of them these past couple years."

"Managing is a good word for it."

Uhura gestured to a bed, striding over the the kitchenette to grab the bowls from the counter. She passed Len a bowl of something that smelled vaguely of bay leaves and settled on the edge of her own bed, one leg crossed neatly over the other. Len tried his best not to show any admiration for how graceful she made the movement seem, but judging from the brief smile and rolling eyes, she'd caught it anyway.

Uhura had the devil's own gift of timing, no sooner had he lifted a hot spoonful of stew to his lips then she was speaking again. "Jim also said you're spending the night again; you should know he thinks this qualifies as a sleepover."

"Maybe it does at that."

"Then you're not staying?"

"Thought you said he told you I was?"

"For the night, but how long after that?" Uhura fixed him with a genuinely curious gaze, something like concern flickering through her eyes. For him or for Kirk? Heaven knew they would probably strangle each other if he stayed too long.

"I'm guessing the power in my quarters is probably fixed by now. I'm just too lazy to head back just yet." He tried for his most charming smile, but Uhura's expression didn't change.

"Jim's room was supposed to be a double. He went through two roommates his first semester and another one the semester after that; Pike finally approved him for a single, but they just moved the extra bed out to make room for that foul couch."

"I'm half afraid of what I might wake up with tomorrow morning. Ebola, maybe, or leprosy."

Uhura pursed her lips impatiently, "He's spending more time with you than he usually does with any one person, and with you accepting his tutoring… have you considered that it might be simpler just to move in with him?"

"Hell, no. That's a mess of complications just waiting to happen."

"Pike would be overjoyed to convert that room to a double again, and Jim would learn to appreciate having a doctor on hand."

Alarms sounded in Leonard's mind and he was sure the confusion was plain to see on his face, but Uhura never altered her expression by so much as a hair.

"You're suggesting I room with Jim permanently?"

"Until the semester is out."

Leonard managed another spoonful of stew, thoughts racing at warp nine. "'S crazy. I have a dorm-"

"It can be changed."

"His is farther from Medical."

"Jim has water showers."

"How does he manage that anyway?"

"Don't change the subject, McCoy."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Dammit, running in circles. "The hell makes you so persistent anyway?" Leonard growled, looking away from the smirk tugging at Uhura's lips; she knew it was only a matter of time before she wore him down, especially since his own damn thoughts were working against him.

"Jim could always use another friend. Not a casual acquaintance, not one of his crazy month-long flings, just a friend." She settled back on her palms, hooded eyes daring him to object.

"He's fucking surrounded by friends most of the time."

"By admirers; Jim has a crowd of them. He has a way of drawing people in, acts like a legend and they buy it. You don't."

"I don't see you volunteering to live with him for a semester."

"Leaving aside the question of Starfleet's position on co-ed dorms, I would kill him before the week was out."

"Y' think an oath is going to stop me?"

Uhura snorted, but if possible she seemed to become even more solemn. "Honestly, Jim can be an ass; no one that has worked with him for any length of time would say otherwise. He can be childish, temperamental and stubborn, but no one could ever call him fickle. Jim's a good friend. He'll drive you crazy meddling in everything you would rather keep quiet, refusing to tell you anything _he _would rather keep quiet; God help you if you're in trouble because Jim _will_ come charging in to save the day whether you want him to or not-"

A shiver of foreboding raced up Len's spine when he remembered all the things he had confided about Joss and Jojo, the wreck he had called a marriage and all the ugliness of the divorce. Those were secrets he couldn't get back, but he didn't regret unburdening himself to Jim, hoped the kid would have the good sense to never say another word about it.

"That is what it comes down to. Jim is all or nothing, in everything. I think you would temper each other; I think both of you could use a friend like that."

"Doesn't mean we have to share a room. I would snap his head off the first time he left his clothes in a heap next to the hamper."

"There's probably a thriving culture of advanced life-forms living in some of those piles by now." Both shuddered at the thought.

They ate in silence for a time, not precisely avoiding conversation so much as mulling over what had been said. Leonard was shocked to find he was truly considering Uhura's mad proposal; what could it hurt? Jim _was_ tutoring him after all, and given his propensity for mischief, having a doctor on hand at all times was not a bad idea. All right, so his motives weren't entirely altruistic, he was lonely and Jim was… exciting, and Len wasn't sure he'd ever had a friend like Uhura described.

It was tempting, and Len was beginning to think he might have punished himself long enough for a handful of old mistakes.

"What the hell." It was more of a resigned sigh than a glowing endorsement of the idea, but Uhura smiled brightly.

"I'll ask him tonight- something tells me I'm going to regret it, though."

"Jim's been campaigning to get you into his room since the first time he laid eyes on you."

"Not for the same reasons, and we're never going to go there."

Uhura's sympathetic look was far too knowing, and a little encouraging; clearly she was all in favor of it. Leonard wondered just how long it would be before the silver-tongued bastard actually managed to talk him into sharing a little more than a room, and if his vaunted loyalty would outlast the addition of a new notch to his bedpost.

Better not to let it happen; his one and only serious relationship had shattered in an awe-inspiring way- he wasn't eager to repeat the experience. Casual sex was out of the question, based on what little experience he had of it, Leonard could unequivocally state that it simply wasn't in his nature.

Common sense said it was impossible to be both friends and lovers, and Len would rather have a lasting friendship with occasional hints at something more than the heartbreak that was sure to come of being Jim Kirk's latest conquest.

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Leonard made the trek across campus once more, running through numerous scenarios in his head. What if Jim _didn't_ want him to stay? What if he did? How was he supposed to ask?

"Hey, Jim, mind if I stay for another night? How about the whole semester?" Too casual.

"I've commed maintenance and they think it would be faster to put another bed in here than to fix my power supply." Too blunt.

"Would you mind sharing your dorm 'til semester's end?" Too coy. Nothing was quite right, and Leonard's mood soured the closer he came to his destination.

Of course, the sight that greeted him when the door slid open shocked him out of his bad mood, and drove any coherent thoughts from his head. Evidently he hadn't been the only one in need of a shower, and Jim wore wet skin exceedingly well.

"Good god, Jim. Put some fucking clothes on, or a towel, at least." Leonard was glad his voice betrayed none of the conflicting feelings tangling his thoughts. He was a doctor, dammit, seeing a naked human form was nothing particularly new or exciting.

Jim jumped guiltily, "All my shirts are missing." He was _never_ going to interfere with Jim's clothing organization system again, never.

"I put them on the chair." He cleared his throat, looking at everything except Jim. Len wasn't sure how much of that redness was a blush and how much was left from the apparently infernal temperature of his shower, but it was _everywhere_ and gorgeous as all hell.

"Thanks, Bones."

"Any time, kid." He was too young, too arrogant, too _Kirk_ for this.

"Oh my god, Bones. You're blushing."

Leonard pointedly turned his back, "What did Chris have to say?"

"Even _I_ don't call him by his nickname, Bones. That's the first rule of the academy and the only one I haven't at least _tried _to break." The sound of the wardrobe door opening and closing, the rustle of fabric followed by silence.

"I'm in trouble, but what else is new? It's nothing too serious; nothing off-campus, no extracurriculars-"

Bones spun, "Tutoring?" Damn him, Jim hadn't even bothered with a shirt despite his whining, he'd just yanked on a pair of dress pants and called it a good effort.

"I cleared it with Pike. He's a little impressed with your scores, by the way."

"A little impressed with your methods, I think." Len snorted.

"That too." Jim conceded. He was shuffling oddly, his lips quirked into something resembling a smile. Leonard had seen that look on Joanna's face too many times to count.

"Anything else you want to tell me, Jim?"

"I don't know."

Bones raised a brow, putting every ounce of authority he could muster into it.

"For the record, Bones, if we're going to be living together for any amount of time-and I really think we should- you have to stop that. It's not fair."

"I'm sure that wasn't-"

Jim's smile turned sly, "So seeing as you're staying the night anyway, you want to go ahead and just make it official? We could have another bed in here by tomorrow afternoon; better yet, you could share mine."

"Can you stay serious for more than five fucking minutes?"

"Sad part is, I _am_ serious."

"You're tryin' to throw me off."

"Guess it's not working. Just trust me on this one, Bones, I want it to be a surprise."

"I hate surprises." Surprises like coming home to find your wife with another man, or having the police show up at your door demanding the release of your own kid, or having your last living family disown you for doing the only thing conscience would permit. No, Leonard McCoy had never yet met a good surprise.

"You'll like this one, I promise."

They weren't going to get anywhere arguing this; Jim would keep his secrets anyway- and no, pillow talk would _not_ be a good way to trick it out of him.

"Could you at least put a shirt on?" It would be so much easier to think if he couldn't see the subtle shift of Jim's muscles beneath pale skin every time he moved even slightly, and seeing the way those pants rode indecently low on his waist was not doing anything for the blood-flow to Leonard's brain.

"Too hot."

"We talkin' about you or the room?" That slipped out before Leonard could bite his tongue, and not for the first time he cursed the impulse that always made him say the first thing that came to mind at the most inconvenient time. Determinedly he clenched his fists at his sides when Jim's eyes widened in delighted shock, giving him a once-over that made him feel every bit as naked as Jim had been.

He cleared his throat, "Temperature-wise."

"Sure, Bones, whatever; I think I've made my position pretty clear."

Hadn't he just, and Len had promised himself not half an hour ago that this relationship wasn't going to be anything other than platonic; conviction had never been so difficult to maintain.

"Mind if I stay for the semester? We'll get rid of your ancient couch and put the extra bed in its place." Not the most subtle way of changing the topic, but the best he could manage on short notice.

Jim licked his lips unconsciously, leaving Bones with the uncomfortable impression of being the proverbial deer in the wolf's sights; worse, it wasn't an unpleasant experience.

"Glad to have you, Bones."

There were too many ways that could be interpreted, and he couldn't bring himself to object to any one of them.

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Jim decided to mercifully leave Bones to his own devices for a bit, retreating back into the bathroom under pretense of taking care of a little grooming. It took everything he had not to drag Bones in with him, push him up onto the counter and take him up on that unthinking invitation, but there would be many more opportunities for that if Jim had his way, and that necessitated caution lest he scare Bones away by acting too soon.

He hadn't missed the dumbfounded expression on Leonard's face when the man had walked in on him so casually, the way his breath caught, eyebrows winging up in consternation. Bones was fucking hot when he was flustered, but then, Bones was fucking hot all the time as far as Jim was concerned. Nice to know the attraction was mutual; he'd been starting to get a little worried on that score. Not that Bones wouldn't have made an awesome friend anyway, but Jim wanted more in time, when Bones was finally healed from the wounds his bitch-wife had inflicted and when he didn't feel any sort of obligation to Jim for an occasional hand up every now and again.

Not that it would stop his teasing, and he wasn't about to complain if Bones wanted to start something now, but he'd hoped that with the pressure of the bet off and Bones moving into his rooms now they could take it a little slower and see if they couldn't build up to something permanent.

His mind shied away from the word; permanence wasn't something Jim had seen much of in his life, but he prided himself on being a good judge of character, and he suspected Bones wouldn't settle for anything less.

It was a concession he was willing to make, and now that Bones would be living with him on a daily basis, the game could begin in earnest.


	10. A New Development

Living with Bones was nothing like Jim had expected.

It was at least ten times better.

He had thought that when Bones moved in the flowing dynamic between them might change- and certainly it had-but other little idiosyncrasies stayed exactly the same.

Some little habits had taken considerable adjustment; Jim had never been a heavy sleeper, and the first week was hell as he tried to convince his body to sleep through Bones' impressively loud snores, but then had come the night that Bones had pulled an all-nighter at the clinic. Jim had found himself waking every half-hour, disoriented and fatigued and wondering if maybe he wasn't developing a little stress-related insomnia. It took him four hours of misery to figure out he was listening for the sound of Bones' breathing.

Bones was a mother hen, constantly picking at him to eat healthier, sleep longer- and "Dammit, Jim, it's cold outside; put on a fucking jacket before I end up treating you for frost bite" had become a constant refrain. Sometimes Jim wanted nothing more than to snarl that he'd been taking care of himself for years and wasn't any worse for wear; on rare occasions he had even given in to the impulse, and the two of them had bickered like an old married couple until one of them thought to point that out, and then it was all rueful smiles and sheepish apologies until Bones started in on him again.

Jim had left his own mark too; Bones didn't always make his bed before he rushed out in the mornings now and sometimes breakfast was no more than a slice of toast between his teeth and a mug of coffee in his hand as he rushed out the door. "You're a bad influence." He'd always remark, wrinkling his nose as he spread a little too much butter on his toast courtesy of Jim's urging.

Then again, Jim found that most of his clothes were making their way into a hamper without Bones saying word one, and if his PADDs were still on the floor, well, at least they were stacked according to subject now.

Jim had learned to enjoy these little things; the way Bones ate everything on his plate counter-clockwise until Jim pointed it out, then he'd resolutely cleaned his plate clockwise just to prove he could. The way he'd stumble in after an early class, throwing himself down his bed for a nap and holding onto his pillow like it was going to run away from him. Jim liked to study then, stretched out on his own bed, watching Bones' back rise and fall rhythmically.

It was peaceful, and that wasn't something Jim had ever thought he could enjoy, but there was something satisfying about coming back from whatever chaotic mess he'd managed to get himself involved in during the day to this little haven of relative calm.

It wasn't all sunshine though; the times Bones commed Joanna were the worst. He would wander aimlessly around the apartment then, rearranging everything, clean ferociously, all with a bitter little smile Jim had learned to hate. Then there were the mornings where Bones' face was dark as thunderclouds and he'd slink out the door without so much as a goodbye; the way he shook his head and sneered occasionally while he was mentally battling foes Jim couldn't even begin to guess at. Evening would roll around and he'd come back, warily glancing at Jim over his shoulder like he feared he might have been evicted over the course of the afternoon, sometimes he'd bring a peace-offering and wait nervously until Jim flashed a friendly grin and asked him who the hell had yanked his tail that morning.

Then Bones would just look so damn _grateful_ and _relieved_, like he'd been expecting absolute rejection, that Jim wanted nothing more than to pull him into a smothering embrace and assure him that it would take more than a few snappish moods make him let go.

Except that Bones would laugh it off and call him a lunatic and they would spend the next few days awkwardly pretending nothing had happened.

He was wise enough to know he had it _bad_, and that scared him a little- all right, a lot-except sometimes Jim could see his own thoughts mirrored on Bones' face before he quickly assumed a practiced neutral expression. No, there was nothing average about how fast they had come to rely on each other for this casual and easy acceptance; it _was_ downright unnerving, but after years of constantly placing second-best with everyone, Jim was enjoying the new responsibilities of being someone's first and best friend.

The trick would be in convincing Bones that it was possible to be both friends and lovers, and that it really wouldn't be too big of a step from where they stood now.

It wasn't going to be easy, but Jim was increasingly sure it would be worth the effort.

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It seemed a new experience, living with someone else again after so long on his own; Leonard had begun to adapt to living alone, had embraced solitude and told himself it was something he could cope with. When he'd decided to move in with Jim, he hadn't been certain how it would go.

Fine, as it turned out.

It didn't startle him anymore when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Jim tinkering with some gadget Len was pretty sure he shouldn't have been able to get his hands on. He'd come to expect Jim's running commentary on everyone's business but his own, everything from Gaila's morphology project to Daystrom's attempts to program intelligent life, and he slept easier now that he could feel someone else in the room- even if Jim did occasionally start giggling in his sleep and wake himself up with it.

They had settled into a routine this past month or so, and Leonard was surprised to find it was agreeable, even _fun;_ not that he would ever admit it to Jim, it was a wonder the kid could support the weight of that overinflated ego already. Besides, he was pretty sure Jim heard everything he didn't say and graciously chose not to refer to it.

It had quickly been established that Wednesday night was vid night unless Len was scheduled for an extra shift in the clinic, and Fridays Jim invited Gaila, Uhura and Chekov for cards. Despite Gaila's shameless flirting and Uhura's light teasing the boy somehow managed to make a profit every week, much to Jim's dismay.

Tuesdays meant running flight simulations ad nauseam, but it was easier now that he could see a little progress in his work; Jim tolerated his gruff commentary, interjecting a provocative remark every now and again just to get him started. Leonard was more grateful for that patience than he could ever say, and did his level best not to take advantage of it too often.

All in all, he'd begun to settle in. And if there was a time or two when he'd caught Jim studying him just a little too intensely or caught himself entertaining a few notions of his own, all was forgiven. Leonard wasn't one for making spur-of-the-moment decisions, but every time Jim brushed just a little too close while he manipulated the controls on the sim or caught Leonard's eye and tipped him that _Don't worry, we've got this_ wink Len knew he was a step closer to damning the consequences and giving himself free reign.

He was comfortable with Jim, in a way their short acquaintance didn't really merit, but Leonard had never been one for discounting the importance of instinct.

It had been years since he'd attempted any sort of relationship at all, and Jim had made it plain his offer still stood. They were both consenting adults, both undeniably attracted, and both of them slated for the Enterprise… just so long as it didn't interfere with their duties, it couldn't hurt to have something a little more than friendship- that was something he knew he'd always have regardless.

He would wait though, wait until he didn't have to ask Jim for any more help with these damn examinations, until they had cleared up the Maru and he'd found a way to deal with Jocelyn's maneuvering. Leonard wanted none of that between them, no sense of obligation or debts owed; that way when Jim decided to move on to greener pastures they could keep their easy camaraderie with no lingering sense of betrayal or jealousy. It was a compromise he was willing to accept, or at least to try; there was a chance he might regret it, but Leonard knew he would if he declined the opportunity.

!

!

!

* * *

"I have a date." Jim announced over supper a few nights later, beaming with good cheer.

Leonard tried to ignore the little stab of an emotion he didn't care to name while he forced himself to smile back. "Good for you, kid. Gonna be a little hard to impress the lady, what with you bein' confined to campus and all- but I'm sure you'll manage." He might have added that last part for spite, but didn't care to speculate on why; moving in together didn't mean he had an exclusive claim on Jim's time, even if the kid hadn't stopped flirting with him since day one.

Jim wrinkled his nose in confusion, not an expression Len was privileged to see often, but always satisfying when he did. "Not a _date_, Bones. A Date. For the Maru. I'm up next Friday, and I wanted to make sure I could still count on you."

"Shit, kid. That's ten days away, aren't you a little, I don't know… concerned?" Bones snapped peevishly; every spare moment Jim should have been studying for his own course work had been funneled into teaching _him_ the ins and outs of flight sims, going over every possible combination of malfunctions until Leonard _dreamed_ of shuttle disasters every night. It hadn't done much to cure his aviophobia, but damned if he couldn't land that little bastard every which way with an ever-falling damage score.

In short, the guilt was beginning to eat at him and it wasn't comfortable in the slightest.

Jim blinked, "Sure, I've got some studying to do-"

"Study, my ass." Len grumbled.

"Why, Bones, I didn't know you were up for it." It was impossible to take offense when Jim wore that beatific smile, so quickly extinguished when he bit down unthinkingly into an asparagus. Leonard smirked, vegetables had become increasingly prevalent in Jim's diet, and the kid didn't care for it at all.

Joanna had always been an oddball in that regard, demanding her peas and squash if she thought her mother had been skimping on servings… Len pushed the thought aside determinedly.

"Y'can count on me kid, but I can't save you if you don't have a clue what you're doing."

"Leave it to me, Bones. I've got this all worked out."

The devil of it was, he probably did. Bones didn't know whether he was pleased or disappointed about that, had to admit it was probably a little bit of both.

"'S that what you 'n Gaila have been getting up to? Studying?"

Jim's eyes widened with delight, "You noticed! We've got it cornered."

Cornered. There was an interesting choice of words. Len frowned, trying to trace the thought back to its source, something about that phrasing just sent shivers of foreboding up his spine.

"Don't faze out on me, Bones." Jim's voice assumed the sleazy, whining quality Leonard always associated with the old film noir gangsters of his youth "I'll do for the greenies if you do."

"Good god, Jim. How old are you again? Greenies?"

"Nice to have you back."

Leonard had learned to regret ever introducing Jim to those old classics; the kid seemed to think he bore more than a passing resemblance to Al Capone, and it had been a solid three days before he'd been able to enter the room without Jim making some wise-ass quip about holdups or full-body searches. Several times he'd considered offering a strip search for thoroughness' sake just to see the look on Jim's face. Except he half suspected Jim would look at him like Christmas come early, and Leonard really wasn't sure what he would make of that.

Oh well, jot it down as another fantasy he'd never dare to act on; those were becoming distressingly frequent of late.

"Hm. I like that smirk, something to share with the class, Bones?"

"I'm just wondering how it is that your request to retake the Maru came through so quickly when I haven't been called to qualify."

Jim's eye twitched in that way Leonard had come to associate with strong feelings of guilt, "Don't know, you should ask your adviser."

"I didn't think you _would_ know, but I'm starting to think you might. Something _you_ would like to confess, Jim?" Leonard fixed him with a glare, daring him to try a deflection; with an eight year old daughter, he was willing to bet he'd heard every one and then some.

Jim sank down in his chair defensively, holding his plate before him as though it might prevent his erstwhile roommate flying for his throat. "IaskedPiketopostponeandhesaidyes."

"Want to run that by me again?"

Jim tried for a smile, completely oblivious to how very charming Leonard found that earnest look of a moment ago.

"Since you were so hesitant to make an appeal on your own, I submitted one for you formally requesting that any test be delayed until your legal issues had been suitably dealt with."

_Oh god, Uhura was right. James T. Kirk is going to be the death of me_.

"What the hell, Jim." Bones growled, "I asked you to _tutor_ me, not take over my life!" He swiped his dishes off the desk, pushing his chair in roughly and stomping off to the kitchen. Jim followed at his heels, close enough that Leonard feared for his feet.

"Hold up. You asked for my help _academically_. That implies that you trusted my judgment; it was my professional judgment that-"

"Professional? You don't get to throw that word around yet."

"You needed a little more time; you're still worrying over Joanna-"

"Don't you fucking bring my kid into this, Jim."

"And I think the only way you're going to sort yourself out is if you take care of her first."

The dishes clattered on the counter, landing perilously near the edge when Leonard spun. "I din't _ask_ for your help, Jim. I told you, that's over. I _lost_!" It hurt to say it aloud, ripped open wounds that had only just begun to heal, and Jim didn't deserve to be dragged into this, even if he thought he was charging to the rescue again.

Leonard drew a breath, preparing an apology; he owed Jim thanks for his well-meaning interference. Thanks, and a warning to keep his nose out of Len's business unless specifically invited to stick it there.

"Stop being a stubborn asshole, Bones. We're friends, looking out for each other comes with the territory. I'm sorry I pissed you off, but I thought you needed help and I tried to help. Wouldn't be much of a friend if I didn't at least try." Jim folded his arms across his chest, chin sticking out belligerently and blue eyes sparkling with genuine temper. It was a look Bones had only seen once before, and damn him if it didn't go straight to his dick just like the first time.

Leonard had to admit Jim had him there, he'd said it often enough himself that he couldn't really object to having the same argument thrown in his teeth.

"All right. I'll see if I can't speak with someone about having that lifted. Future reference, don't do something like this without givin' me some advance warning." Another thought struck him, and Len narrowed his eyes questioningly.

"Been up to anything else I need to know about?"

"Like what?" Jim's tone was a little too defensive for an innocent man; Len pressed his pursuit.

"I don't know, Jim. You tell me."

"Nothing."

"You sure?"

"Sure."

Leonard knew he was lying through his pretty teeth, but when Jim got that look on his face there was no forcing him even an inch further. He pushed the question of what Jim was plotting to the back of his mind, choosing instead to compose a little speech on the importance of qualifying for the sake of graduating sometime this year.

!

!

!

The words Jim had been waiting for these past few weeks finally flashed across his comm just as he stepped out of his navigational seminar. _Hearing scheduled. Location San Fran. Informed McCoy yet?_

Bless Christopher Pike and everyone he loved; Jim wasn't even going to ask how he had not only convinced Starfleet to lend Bones a hand or how he'd managed to bring the fight to a local court. Procedural questions whirled through his mind, but it would spoil some of the magic of this event if he examined it too closely; besides, Pike brought up a very valid point.

_No_. Jim bit his lip, waited for the comm to chime again and quickly checked the screen.

_Better get on that, son._

Jim flinched even as he grinned hugely; Pike was in a good mood, that boded well for their chances of seeing Joanna. He hadn't informed Bones though, even when he'd had the opportunity last night.

Bones was gonna be _pissed_. Again.

Hopefully, some of his pleasure at the good news would show itself to the messenger. Jim fondly imagined Bones reaming him out royally, profanities flying through the air like lethal weapons, hazel eyes shimmering with anger and excitement and cheeks flushed with the exertion of yelling at the top of his lungs. He'd wait until Bones paused to draw a breath before stealing a kiss… or maybe Bones would snap and kiss Jim's lying lips, overwhelmed with equal parts frustration and joy.

More likely, Bones would chew him out for his continuous interference and then ladle an extra helping of spinach onto his plate. Yuck. To make matters worse, he'd eat dessert first like he did every night, and when Jim tried to object he'd say the same thing he always did: _I could be dead before dessert, Jim. And then all this lovely cobbler would go to waste. _Then he would smirk and gesture to Jim's disgusting heap of once growing things and add _but you've got years of hedonism to make up for, finish your veggies first._

Jim would do it too, because one day he was going to kiss and lick every last bit of that damnable peach cobbler from Leonard McCoy's lips; Bones would gag on the taste of his foul _veggies_, and then all would be well and equal with the world.

Jim peered cautiously around the room as he stepped in, observing the red jacket tossed carelessly onto Bones' bed, the boots tilted sideways beside the door and an empty plate sitting at Bones' elbow while he peered at something on the screen of his PADD. Good moods all around today, and Jim wasn't keen to wreck it, but he wasn't sure how this news would be received.

!

!

"Hey, Bones."

Bones humphed softly, which was The Real McCoy for "Good to see you too, Jim." One day, he'd program the universal translator to recognize it.

"So I heard something interesting from Captain Pike today."

Bones laid his PADD aside, glancing up to him in sympathetic alarm. "He found out where the water credits are going?"

"What? I don't borrow Pike's; do I look suicidal?"

"Borrow." Bones shook his head slowly, just beginning to relax.

"It's got nothing to do with water, actually. Turns out my hunch was right though."

"Course it was, Jim. You're always right." Jim chose to ignore the thick sarcasm in favor of coming to the point.

"Starfleet is always willing to help out deserving cadets." Jim prayed Bones would take the hint from there, but was greeted with a singularly blank expression.

"Who the hell decides who's 'deserving' or not? We're all in Starfleet academy, signing our lives away to fly around in emptiness protected by nothing more than a little sheet metal and some flashing lights that the ensigns pretend to understand. I think that's pretty deserving." Bones huffed.

"Well apparently someone decided you're pretty deserving; you've got a custody hearing coming up, and th-"

"A what now?" Bones' voice could best be described as a dull roar.

"Custody hearing. Here in the city; Joanna's coming along and when I checked with Pike to see if maybe you could have a supervised visit or something he said as long as it doesn't conflict with-"

"A hearing? Jim!" Strike that last, definitely a full-throated roar. Excitement and panic blended in equal measures on his face, Bones dashed what Jim thought might have been cleverly disguised tears from his eyes.

"You sly son of a bitch!" Jim wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a complement or a curse, but Bones didn't look too certain either.

"Decisions can be appealed-"

"I wa'n't gonna fight this, Jim. Years in the black and you think they're gonna give me the right to come waltzing back into 'er life whenever I damn well please? 'S not fair to anyone!"

"You think Joanna agrees?" Jim kept his tone subdued and gestures placating. "I think she'd be happy to see her father on any terms."

"How the-" Bones cut off, burying his face in his hands, but Jim knew precisely how that one had been about to end.

"Hell, Bones. I'd've killed to see my dad. If he'd shown up on my fucking sixteenth birthday and asked if I wanted to take my dirt bike for a spin I would've been the happiest damn kid in the universe, and I didn't even get a chance to meet my father. Jo knows you; she trusts you to look out for her, and that's why you're going to dig out your dress uniform, march to Pike's office and tell him you're ready for hell."

"Hell's right." Bones' neutral expression was firmly in place, but he had a white-knuckled grip on that chair. "Jocelyn's goin' to be supervising this visit, and she'll be none too pleased about being called to task."

" Well fuck her anyway; I got your back, Bones. Pike does too. You'll have your visitation rights, and we'll find a way to make it work."

"That your final word on the matter, captain?" Bones' voice was hoarse, like he was choking back sobs even as he spoke, but Jim appreciated how much the frail attempt at humor must have cost him and resolved to leave him alone for a few hours, maybe make himself a nuisance over at Uhura's place while Bones decided how he was going to feel about this new development.

"It is."

!

!

* * *

Poor Jim, it's never that simple. :p


	11. Skipping Stones

Leonard barely had it in him to wait until the door hissed shut before he broke down; when he tried to release his grip on the chair he realized his hands were visibly shaking. He couldn't quite process all the thoughts and emotions that raced through him at once, everything from dread to elation to blind fury and gut-wrenching thankfulness.

He wanted to know how the hell Jim had pulled this off. He wanted to say thank you and fuck off and a whole lot of other things he couldn't put into words just yet. He was going to see Joanna again, had a real chance to take care of his greatest regret before he was assigned a ship and duties that would probably keep him from Earth for a long time.

It had been almost a year since he'd last held his little girl, and it wasn't a happy memory; Jo didn't like to cry in front of her daddy, but she'd sobbed brokenly into his neck while Joss hovered nearby, clearly projecting her impatience to be away. Len had spoken with her a couple nights ago; if she had known anything about this, she would have said something. Did she know now?

Leonard clenched his fists, fighting the urge to comm Joanna and frantically demand if she was all right with coming to see him- did she want him to try for visitation, maybe even joint custody? Len didn't kid himself, he knew Joanna had been the victim of his domestic troubles; she'd had to stand helplessly by and watch while the marriage fell apart, watch her parents quarrel over her like a couple junkyard dogs over a bone. It had taken months of constant reassurance to convince her they'd be fighting even if she wasn't there, and even now Len suspected some part of her thought he and Joss might have reconciled if they hadn't had to face the complications a child almost inevitably brought to inimical divorce proceedings.

If anything, the importance of Joanna's wellbeing was the only thing he and Joss had managed to agree on near the end; if only Joss would admit that his active participation in Jo's life was essential to her upbringing, everything would be perfect. If she truly believed it, that would be even better, but until now he hadn't exactly passionately disagreed with her.

Jim's words had given him a lot to think on; it wasn't ideal, gallivanting off on harrowing adventures while his daughter was earthbound in the company of her mother, who incidentally doubled as her father's nemesis, but maybe she would understand in time and forgive him.

An occasional visit during shore leave, or even a few days staying with him if the ship was near enough would be vastly preferable to nothing more than subspace communiques. Was it so selfish of him to want that? Would it be such an imposition for her to see her own father every now and again? He'd always assumed it would hurt her more to have to let him go continuously, but if anyone would know what it was like to miss their father it would be Jim.

That brought him circling back to his original question; when had Jim decided it was his place to interfere? How the hell had he accomplished it? With Pike's help, obviously, and that was humiliating all on its own, but to have Jim imply that he was somehow less for not having this resolved? That stung; Leonard had been convinced he was holding it together far better than that.

He pressed his palms roughly into his eye-sockets, rubbing until spots exploded behind his closed lids. It was shameful how much he'd come to depend on Kirk; he teased Jim constantly about how close they were after such an unconventional introduction, and now here he was presuming this much on a such a short acquaintanceship. It wasn't fair, especially given how little he'd been able to offer in return. A few home-cooked meals and a little friendly banter were nothing compared to this.

Which is precisely why he hadn't taken their relationship any further; it wasn't natural for him to depend so much on someone, especially when he was the one accustomed to filling that role.

"Fucking damsel-in-distress complex." He muttered, pushing himself back from the desk. That wasn't fair to either one of them; he'd asked for help, Jim had helped, he'd confided a few domestic troubles and Kirk had gone full out red alert before he even knew what was happening. It was a little annoying… it was also a little heartwarming. And he was going to make sure Jim knew not to go behind his back again, dammit.

For now though, he needed to make his way to Pike's office and request a briefing on what the hell was going to happen in his life these next few weeks.

Then he needed to sit down and decide exactly where Jim fit in his life, and how much of his well-intentioned meddling was justifiable in that context. The sick feeling of anxiety coiling in his stomach loosened its grip slightly, and Len set himself to the business of taking back a little control, starting with that walk to Pike's den.

!

!

!

Jim's feet turned him toward the small garden just off the Eastern quad rather than the women's dorm; seeking out Uhura and Gaila whenever he had a problem was almost second nature after three years of academy life. He would've liked to pretend that it was some urge to break his dependency that made him seek solitude instead of their usually welcome company, but the simple fact of the matter was that he preferred to be alone.

Of course, if Bones had rounded the corner and told him to get his ass home because supper was getting cold, Jim would have trotted back to the dorm on the double.

But even if he were inclined to go home, he genuinely wasn't sure of his welcome. Bones might have welcomed the end result of his interference-and even that had looked questionable when he left- but Jim knew he'd crossed a line with Bones tonight. The question was whether that would turn out to be a good or a bad thing; _maybe_ Bones would grumble and growl and tell him they were still friends but he'd better damn well keep his nose to himself, or _maybe _Jim would come back to find this had been the final straw and Bones was already packing to move back to his old room and his old Kirk-free life.

Worse, maybe he would stay and spend the rest of the semester trying to repay Jim for something he had volunteered to do. He just didn't like to see Bones _hurt_ like that when there was no good reason for it. Leonard McCoy had a martyr complex, and Jim considered it his duty to make sure the doctor didn't crucify himself for every perceived mistake. Not to mention that it wasn't just Bones' happiness on the line here. He had a kid that obviously thought her dad was a bona fide hero, and she'd never forgive Bones if he willingly effaced himself from her life for the sake of some misguided attempt to avoid rocking the boat.

Everything would be so much simpler if he just had the right to say that to Bones straight out, but there _were_ a few lines Jim knew better than to cross yet, boundaries he would not breach until he was invited.

Jim drifted to the artificial pond; pity no one had bothered to leave a few rocks at its side, he'd never learned the trick of skipping stones, but there was no one here at this hour of the evening to see if he sank a couple in the attempt. He wondered if Bones had ever been by here, a lot of the cadets used the gardens as a bright place to study on a warm summer's day; Jim had always enjoyed sitting out here with a light breeze and the hum of conversation all around while he paged through his notes. Bones struck him as more of the quiet floor in the library type, but the garden had its own special charm Bones might learn to like if he let himself.

It was very possible he owed Bones an apology despite his protests of a few hours previous. He'd taken control again without leave and now Bones was stuck contending with Jim's upcoming Maru, his own flight qualifications and now a custody battle that he hadn't seemed at all ready for when Jim left him.

He'd done it again, taken a tangled snarl of a knot and turned it into a nightmare of Gordian proportions. Fuck. Jim seemed to recall something about good intentions and roads to hell, he hoped he hadn't just paved his own way and dragged Bones with him.

Jim settled on the damp grass cross-legged, letting his back slump until he was practically folded double. Bones would most likely nag him about ruining a perfectly good pair of pants, bitch about how hard it was to get grass stains out of them; assuming Bones still cared enough to bitch him out- odd as it was, Jim devoutly hoped so. Bones only badgered people he genuinely cared about, everyone else only merited his professional attention and unfailingly correct manners. Jim was singularly proud of his ability to provoke Bones past any sense of professionalism or good manners.

He smiled lazily at the thought of the temper that confession might provoke; some day, assuming Bones gave him a second chance, he'd tell him just to see the look on his face. He'd save it until Bones was comfortable with him as a friend and a lover, then spring it on him and hopefully find himself somewhere near a bed where he could show Bones that good manners were definitely overrated; Jim was willing to bet Bones' temper wouldn't last long past a few lingering kisses, and he would dispense with the professional detachment under a steady assault of lips and teeth.

Jim knew he had no right to it, but he couldn't stifle an errant thought; would Bones be a gentleman, tender and focused, determined to drive his lover past any thought beyond the present or would he be the perfect hellion, demanding exactly what he needed and taking precisely what he wanted.

_God_ the thought of Bones whispering lewd commands in his ear as those steady hands mapped the planes and contours of his body had Jim glancing thoughtfully at the water. He was a fucking pervert, but he was probably in good company; sometimes Bones would look at him like he'd never donned anything more than that sagging bath-towel he'd been wearing the day Bones moved in. Jim hoped he hadn't ruined any chance of the glorious partnership he was pretty sure they had been heading for before he pushed too hard.

Only one way to find out; he had to head back and ask Bones. In a while, as soon as he was sure he was ready for the answer- assuming Bones had an answer for him.

!

!

* * *

Leonard had never before seen an intimidating door; he'd never thought that was a quality that could be ascribed to an inanimate object, let alone a door.

Damned if Captain Christopher Pike's door wasn't the most intimidating sight on campus.

Nondescript was the best word for it; no insignia of rank burnished into the metal, no name-plate or charming decorations like Leonard had seen on some of the other doors.

It was just a door, because Christopher Pike needed no introduction.

Bones hadn't been this nervous since the night he had tip-toed up Jocelyn Darnell's porch steps to ask her father if he might maybe marry his baby girl. Seeing how that had turned out, Leonard began to understand why he might have a bit of a problem with doors, not to mention over-protective fathers.

The door slid open on its own and Leonard skittered back, abandoning any hope of dignity. Pike stood in the entryway, eyes widening in surprise for a split second before his face was carefully neutral again.

"Doctor McCoy. I wasn't expecting you." His expression certainly didn't betray that, he looked as composed as if wild-eyed med cadets showed up at his office door every day.

"Are you going to come in?" It took Leonard a moment to realize Pike had stepped away from the door, gesturing him in with a practiced formality belied by the hawk-eyed gaze he fixed Leonard with as the latter strode in.

What was he supposed to do now? Wait to be addressed or start the conversation?

"It's generally considered polite to begin with a greeting."

Fuck. There was no missing the small quirk of the lips that told him Pike was probably howling with laughter beneath that indifferent facade. Very few people had the honor of claiming they had ever caught Leonard off guard, instructors and students alike.

Leonard cleared his throat, "Good evening."

Pike chuckled this time, and Len found his guard relaxing somewhat, sinking into the chair Pike indicated. "It was a good first try, McCoy. I'm sure you'll have time to work on it; bedside manner is important. I suppose this is about the hearing?"

Captain Pike settled across from him, folding his hands neatly on the desk between them. Leonard found he was tripping over his own tongue to answer, fixed with eyes no less intense than Jim's own.

"Yes. Jim sprang the news on me this afternoon."

"So you dropped by this evening."

Leonard chose to ignore the implied question, cutting straight to the point. "When do I need to be ready?" His voice lowered, "Is Joanna coming here?"

"She'll need to be present; her opinion will count for much in the proceedings. More to the point, do you want this?"

Leonard's laughter was bitter and sharp, "Would've been a hell of a lot simpler if someone had bothered to ask me that _before_ all this was set up."

Pike nodded, and Len thought he could see a twinge of sympathy. "I'm sure you're familiar with the old saying that it's better to beg forgiveness than ask permission; Jim lives by it."

"And what about you?" The words were out before he could stifle them. Jim he could forgive; he wasn't exactly pleased with the kid's handling of his personal affairs, but Uhura had warned him what he was in for and he was just going to have to find a way to work around that. Pike was a fucking captain, and Len was pretty sure Starfleet policies were clear about handling a student's personal affairs without leave.

Mostly, it pissed him off that everyone _except_ him seemed to have been aware of what was in the proverbial pipeline, and they had planned everything with startling efficiency whether he had wanted it or not.

Pike's gaze said he knew exactly what this was about; the sudden chill in his eyes also warned that while he could take a rebuke in the spirit it was meant, it wasn't a cadet's place to be taking that tone. Leonard wisely bit his tongue to keep anything more from slipping out.

"Jim came to me a few weeks ago and requested aid on your behalf. It's not strictly permitted for me to be discussing your affairs with him or vice versa, and acting on any information he provided is strictly discouraged, but the longer the court's decision stands the more difficult it will be to appeal it."

Pike shrugged, "There's another saying you may be familiar with, 'strike while the iron is hot', _I _live by it. Starfleet is a bureaucratic institution, it takes forever to get a decision passed down, so I put things into motion immediately and _implied_ I was acting at your behest. If you don't want this to go any further, I'll just inform my superiors you had a change of heart and you would rather be the sole property of the fleet than any sort of father. Some make that choice, I thought in your case it would be a mistake."

Translation: Pike was firmly in Jim's corner and wasn't about to back down. Leonard was pretty sure he was also picking up an undercurrent of warning. Briefly his mind flashed back to that harrowing moment he'd stood outside Jocelyn's door, staring down her glowering father.

_What are your intentions toward my daughter?_ Leonard hadn't dared to so much as chuckle at the antiquated phrasing then, but this was different- whatever was between he and Jim was going to stay between them, and whatever shit he wanted to start with Pike would stay between _them _too.

"I'm not saying I don't want this." Pike nodded with such knowing satisfaction that Len might have decked him if they were both cadets; he tamped down on the impulse and forged ahead.

"I _am_ saying that Jim doesn't have the sort of privilege that allows him to act on my behalf like this. You might have pointed that out before you took it on yourself to see this through."

The tension on Pike's face gave way to grudging acknowledgment not unmixed with gentle self-mockery; "Jim can be persuasive, but ultimately you are correct."

Hearing it said aloud returned his sense of self-determination; Len was by no means at ease, but the worst of his frustration deserted him, leaving him tired and drained and damn terrified of what these next few weeks might bring. He was going to need all the support he could get in these coming days.

Leonard slumped in his chair, ignoring the brief flash of concern on Pike's face, what the hell was it with everyone treating him like glass these days? "When will Joanna be here?"

"I don't know if she'll be coming to the academy, but I did extend a personal invitation. For the sake of fostering goodwill between all parties, we'll see if we can't settle this outside a courtroom first. Failing that, we'll expedite the process and see if this can't be sorted out before graduation."

Pike seemed to sharpen suddenly, "On that subject, your flight qualification exam is next Monday."

Leonard couldn't find it in himself to worry any more than he already was; he rather suspected that had been half the point.

"I need to get back." Leonard murmured, he just didn't have the energy to put up any more of a fight; all he wanted to do now was go home, make supper, chat with Jim like his life wasn't falling to pieces around his ears and save any serious discussion for morning.

Thankfully, Pike seemed to understand. "You're dismissed."

Leonard made it back to the safety of his dorm in record time.

!

!

Jim couldn't help his startled jump when the door hissed open and Bones stepped through, shoulders bent beneath a weight Jim could guess the cause of. That weary look was all his fault, and damned if it wasn't plaguing his conscience.

"Hey, Bones."

The noncommittal groan could have been either curse or greeting; Jim had to know which one right away. "I guess we have a lot to talk about, huh?"

He had come prepared to take an ass-kicking meekly, just as long as Bones was willing to put up with him a little longer, but Bones didn't even so much as glance at him before answering.

"Not tonight, Jim. I'm done talking tonight."

Jim stifled a jab of panic, "As in, you don't want to talk to me ever or you just want me to clear out for tonight?"

Bones' head snapped up, but Jim saw no sign of annoyance, just weariness. Fuck. That was bad. "As in I don't want to start anything serious tonight; we have a lot to discuss 'n I'd just as soon save it for tomorrow when we're both prepared 'stead of going off half-cocked now."

Oh. Well that wasn't as bad as it _could_ be. Bones hadn't disowned him yet, and if they had 'serious' business to discuss then that had to mean Bones was willing to hear his side of it. Jim was confident he could talk Bones around given half a chance.

Tentatively he tried another conversational gambit, "Have you ever skipped stones?"

Bones blinked, cocked his head curiously, "What th'hell does that have to do with anything?" Irritation was plain in every syllable, but it was better than the dog-tired look of a few minutes before.

Jim relaxed slightly, "I was just thinking, there's a pond in the student garden and I've never skipped stones before and I thought maybe if you had…" He was rambling and Bones was looking at him like he'd grown another head and maybe it would have been better if he'd just asked to crash at someone else's place for the night-

"You've _never_ tried skipping stones? I thought you'd've tried _everything_ at least once, kid. There's no trick to it, I'll take you out sometime after… all this is over."

And just like that they had settled into routine; it was a little stilted, a little strained, and Jim was pretty sure he wasn't the only one sensing a changing dynamic between them once more, but for now they pretended nothing had changed; anything else would keep until tomorrow, and Jim was determined they would come out of it all right.

!

!

* * *

And another chapter partly because I love you, but mostly because I'm going to have my hands full with ComicCon for the next few days and won't be able to update until next week. :)


	12. Free Fall

Jim stayed abed hours after he had first awoken, listening to Bones' sighing breaths and the slide of skin against cotton; by rights he should have been attending a philosophy of ethics class, but this brief moment of peace was certain to vanish as soon as Bones stirred and Jim wanted this last chance to luxuriate in a comfortable silence.

Wonder of wonders Bones had turned onto his stomach sometime the night before and he hadn't snored half so much as usual; Jim had spent an hour or two checking periodically to make sure his roommate was actually sleeping rather than faking it to avoid any conversation. When the chronometer continued its steady march toward eleven, Jim decided he had waited long enough.

"Bones." No answer, unless a particularly loud snore counted; he didn't so much as twitch.

"Bones, you gonna wake up any time soon?" This was unusual, normally Bones was out of bed a full hour ahead of Jim, grumbling and grouchy, always snarling something about decent folk and unholy hours of the morning, ending with a few creative profanities Jim took note of for later use.

The life-or-death question was, should he let Bones sleep off his cares or wake him now and have it out while he still had the advantage? Jim was, at heart, a tactical thinker.

"Oh my god, Bones! You missed your shift!"

"What the hell?" Bones barked, throwing his covers off and stumbling from the bed clumsily; Jim stifled a smile when his feet tangled in the sheets and he kicked them off, swearing roundly and threatening the inoffensive linens with a horrible demise.

He was halfway to the closet before he realized that Jim was doubled up with helpless laughter, silent tears streaming down his cheeks while his body convulsed spasmodically.

"Infant." Bones growled, smiling ruefully despite himself. Jim's half-hearted chuckles were contagious, against this sort of honest amusement he had no defense. "What ungodly hour did you decide to wake me at?" He glanced at the chronometer, blinked and squinted, checking it again.

"It's coming up on lunch, and we haven't even had breakfast." Jim wiped a few stray tears away, still chuckling quietly as he mouthed some of Bones' more creative turns of phrase.

"I'm glad one of us finds this amusing; I missed a medical anthropology course this morning, and I swear hunger's eaten a hole in my stomach."

"Nothing you can't catch up on, and we can head to the caf for lunch. Problems solved."

"She takes attendance, Jim."

"So we'll think up something good and I'll make it look official. Aren't you supposed to be a doctor or something? Give yourself the day off."

And to think this was the man Pike hoped to one day cede his prized ship to; Starfleet was doomed.

"I can't just go writing excuses every time I sleep a little late, Jim."

Leonard's slightly exasperated, mostly amused mood deserted him when he remembered exactly why he had overslept. Nightmares did have a way of ruining a man's sleep, especially when most of them ended with visions of Jocelyn carrying a sobbing Joanna away from him; that image had been sufficient fodder for a month's worth of disturbing dreams following the divorce and it had returned now, just as he had begun to get his life back on track.

Jim was watching him expectantly, all traces of humor wiped from his carefully neutral expression; Len could read anxiety in the widening of his eyes, determination in the line of his brow- the kid was breathing so shallowly Len couldn't even see the rise and fall of his chest.

They had a lot to talk about, but Jim looked more like he was waiting for a firing squad. Leonard padded back to his bed and sat down, folding his hands before him in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture.

"We're all right, Jim." The words left him on a gusty sigh, laden with resignation. "Least for my part we are. You?"

"Yeah." Jim sank back onto his bed, heaving a sigh of relief. "Yeah, we're all right. I thought you wanted to talk?" Jim cursed himself for bringing that up, if Bones wanted to talk then he'd talk, and if he didn't, why bother reminding him otherwise?

"It'll keep until lunch."

"No. You said last night it could wait until morning. It's almost noon and I want this over with before we eat."

"You sure you want to discuss this before I've had coffee?" Humor and genuine warning mingled in his tone; Jim flashed a devil-may-care smirk, stretching sensuously, delighting in the feel of Bones' gaze riveted on the graceful movement.

"You know how much I love to live dangerously, baby."

Bones snorted, "One of these days, kid, that's going to come back and bite you on the ass."

_Pretty please_. The quality of Jim's smile became altogether more predatory and he watched Bones shift closer, unwillingly attracted. His return to sense was visible, as was his determination not to show it. One day Jim would tell him what that scowl did to his lips, but not just now- that would be the quickest way to make Bones rescind his forgiveness.

"You really overstepped yourself on this one, Jim. Frankly I'm torn between wanting to throw you into a wall or-" Bones cut off, an intriguing blush spreading over his cheeks. Evidently, that was a line of thought he didn't care to pursue, because the next moment, his face was stern once more. Jim lamented the lost opportunity silently, maybe one of these days he'd ask Bones to demonstrate what exactly he'd been thinking at this moment. Jim profoundly hoped that thought might have ended with "Or ravishing you right here."

"I'm not one of those little soldiers you played with as a kid, not a pawn on a chessboard; after years of practice I can finally say that I'm capable of making my own decisions and living with the consequences. Doing this-" Bones gestured expansively, "Removes my agency, takes away my free will."

"I missed my philosophy class this morning, but it sounds like you're all set to teach it." Jim cut in; one day his mouth _was_ going to land him in a steaming pile of trouble and he knew it. In fact, he thought this might well be the day. He sat up, propping himself on the headboard, ignoring the little grooves that dug into his back.

"You're a martyr, Bones. Something goes wrong and you just _take_ it. Fatalistically accept that it is your right- no, your _duty-_ to suffer." Bones' eyes narrowed, locking with Jim's own; he leaned forward, chewing on his lip in a way that suggested he wanted to contest that statement. Too bad, Jim wanted to have his say before Bones ran off with the show.

"And you know why? It's because at your core you're as egotistical as you accuse _me_ of being. Everything comes down to you, how it impacts you, how you're supposed to react to it. You never think about anyone else caught in the crossfire or what they might think of your choices-"

"Lucky me, then." Bones snapped, "'Cause I just happened to find the one cadet on campus who still thinks he's the chosen hero, come to right every wrong and restore justice to the galaxy. A hero complex to complement my martyrdom."

"It's better than just lying down and dying, Bones. That's exactly what you were doing; drinking until you couldn't even remember why the hell you started in the first place, putting no more than a token effort into your courses you were so convinced you would fail. You let a _psychopath_ walk away with your _child_ because you were too tired to put up a fight."

"You know damn well there isn't a chance I'd a left her if I didn't think it was for her own good! Joss cares more for Jo than she does for anything else on this godforsaken planet, even I see that "

"And that's why she's going to raise your kid with some deadbeat she met in a bar while you were out working overtime. That's why she was so insanely jealous she was ready to perjure herself just to get sole custody of Joanna;these are all the actions of a _sane_ and _loving_ mother."

"You don't know a damn thing more than what I've told you, Jim, and that's only half of it. She wouldn't have had to falsify anything, a few carefully chosen words and I'd never see Jo again, hell-" Bones clamped his jaws shut, biting back whatever revelation he'd been about to impart. Disappointed as he was, Jim recognized a smaller victory- now he knew there were still a few skeletons Bones wasn't ready to tell him about yet. That was at least half the battle won.

"Come on, Bones; melodrama suits you, but you're acting like you fucking killed someone. Divorce happens all the time; it doesn't make you a bad person."

Jim paused, seeing Bones' sudden pallor. "God, Bones, I'm sorry. I just- I just think that you're deliberately hurting yourself, and you haven't even done anything wrong."

Bones' color returned slowly, but he didn't speak, only buried his head in his hands once more.

"See, you're hiding. It's your first impulse, all the time. Avoid the conflict, put it off, don't make a scene. This once, I thought it was worth it, Bones." He'd been too harsh, and now Bones was drawing into himself once more, closing himself off; Jim felt more alone in that moment than he had since he'd first met Bones.

"I've never thought of you as a pawn, Bones. I just wanted to help-"

"You helped, Jim. This once, you helped, but what happens next time you decide to help? You're just goin' to go ahead and do it, no input from me- if I want to fuck my life up it's my business."

"That's where you're wrong. Your life became my business the minute we became friends. I spent the last five minutes explaining that; evidently you didn't hear a single word."

"I heard you, Jim. I just don't agree."

"So that's it? It's okay for you to force leafy things down my throat, and tell Gaila not to let me have any sugary snacks; it's fine that you decided on some arbitrary hour as lights out and that you jump all over me when you don't think I'm studying enough-"

"It's not the same!"

"It's exactly the same! We're looking out for each other because like it or not, your life is not your sole property!"

Bones began to shake almost imperceptibly, curling away from Jim.

"Bones?" Jim started when Bones looked up, a defeated smile curling his lips- twisted and self-deprecating, but a smile nonetheless.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with you, Jim? You ever thought of giving the hobgoblin lessons in your version of logic?"

"He'd probably strangle me for bastardizing his mother tongue."

Bones' eyes were suspiciously bright; every shade of green magnified, every fleck of blue impossibly lightened; Jim gave up the fight and spent a moment just taking in the spark of life he saw reflected there. No, Bones wasn't one to lie down and take whatever life dished out, sometimes he just needed a little prodding and a reminder that if it were done when 'tis done then 'twere well it were done quickly.

Jim stifled a laugh, catching Bones' incredulous look. "Something funny, kid?"

"I only quote Shakespeare when I'm drunk."

"That'll be good to know later, but I think maybe you need a little more sleep. You're a little out of it."

"Lunch first, then we go over the Maru guidelines, then one last run-through on your sim, _then-_"

Bones' comm chimed and both men jumped guiltily, sharing sheepish half-smiles.

Bones' smile vanished when he read the short message; to Jim's eyes it seemed as though he aged a decade in the space of a minute, his face darkened and shoulders bent, frown lines spreading over his face while his hands clenched the comm in a desperate grip.

"What is it?" Jim murmured, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

"Shit." Bones hissed, laying aside the comm. He glanced to Jim and the mute pleading in his gaze was enough to put Jim's hackles up. "Pike wants to see me on the double; Jocelyn's here early." Bones' throat worked to swallow, "And she brought Joanna with her."

!

!

It was ten minutes before Len could bring himself to drag a dress uniform from the wardrobe and slip into it. Jim fussed incessantly, tugging at the shirttails until his coat hung just right, arguing with him over the state of his shoes. At this moment, Leonard couldn't bring himself to care that they were a little less than sparkling. Normally he would have delighted in the attention, teased Jim about his exhibitionist ways, walking around in nothing more than boxers and expecting to be taken seriously. He couldn't muster the will to do so now.

"You want me to call anyone? Christine? Maybe-"

"No, don't bother Christine; I'm sure she'll hear all about this when she comes in." Gossip spread quicker than wildfire across campus, and Starfleet medical was the very hub of information.

"You're coming with me though, right?" He watched Jim pause, taking a moment to process the request. Just as he was beginning to think his answer might be a resounding no, Jim spoke up.

"You didn't even have to ask." If their smiles were anxious, at least there was no one else to witness it than they two.

Jim shrugged into his own uniform, by silent agreement allowing Len to button and straighten his shirt, losing himself in the familiarity of the action to the exclusion of all else. Nothing in all the world was quite so important as Jim's brass buttons and the way his coat fit his shoulders; the symmetry of it was a comfort, and it wasn't until Jim caught his hands and pushed him gently away that Leonard realized he'd been plucking at every loose strand.

"Sorry." Bones muttered, "'M not ready for this."

"I don't think anyone was. She shouldn't have been here until after your qualifications-"

"It's a typical Jocelyn maneuver. Catch me off guard and put me on the defensive, she thinks it gives her the advantage."

"She's going to regret crossing Pike; he hates surprises even more than you do. Any advantage she might have gained will be gone by the time we get to that office."

"I'm just spiteful enough to enjoy that."

Leonard pretended not to notice Jim herding him toward the door protectively, arm draped casually over his shoulders with body angled to keep him from knocking into the door-frame. He chose instead to draw a bit of confidence from the set of Jim's shoulders, tilting his head to match Jim's own arrogant stance; no use showing Joss how much she had shaken him.

"You sure you want me around, Bones? I mean, with Joanna being there and all…" Jim shrugged, fixing him with a questioning stare.

"Look, Jim, if you don't want to come along just say so. I can do this on my own."

"Damn it, Bones. You're taking everything I say out of context; do you want some time alone or not?"

"Not. Definitely not." He did, he craved it in fact, but Len knew himself well enough to admit he needed a little support and Jim was his most trusted friend. One errant word from Joss and she could wreck that too.

This was all moving too damn fast for him to get a grip on it. No sooner was he informed that a hearing might be a possibility than Joss was on his doorstep; his flight sim was in a week, and Jim's Kobayashi Maru in a few days and he hadn't managed to convince Jim of anything in their talk. Suddenly his life felt like one of the treacherous free-falls the shuttle sim liked to plague him with. Every bit of stability he made a grab for inevitably slipped through his fingers. If he told Jim as much he had no doubt the kid would tell him to embrace unpredictability; it was easier for Jim to see all this as an adventure when he wasn't the one who would suffer if they crashed and burned.

There were benefits to that line of thinking; if it felt a little like a free-fall then perhaps it could be managed in the same way; he needed to brace himself, hang on tight and wait for an opportunity to retake the controls. He almost said as much to Jim, but the thought of that knowing smirk put the thought right out of his mind.

!

!

* * *

Jim and Bones both froze at the foot of the admin building's sweeping stairs, craning their necks upward to eye the doors suspiciously. Jim wondered if Bones wasn't seeing the ghost of Jocelyn at the entrance- a valid hypothesis if his grim look was anything to go by.

"Well, we won't accomplish anything just standin' out here. Let's go."

Bones was halfway up the stairs before Jim could even voice his agreement; sometime between the dorm and the front quad Bones' whole attitude had changed. It was visible in his lengthening stride and that stubborn tilt of his jaw, even the grim set of his face had given way to something resembling anticipation. Jim could have pitied Jocelyn under any other circumstances, but just now he was eager to see her get her due- not that he would ever say as much to Bones, it smacked of jealousy.

They entered the building side by side, and it was impossible to miss the way the students parted around them; Bones' mask slipped, a little smirk playing about his lips that Jim would have given his right eye to explore in greater detail.

"Like the Red Sea. I'm not sure that bodes well."

"Huh?"

Bones shook his head, "Never mind, just a thought. You know the way to Pike's office? I always get lost somewhere on the second floor."

"And that's why I'd rather have you on my torpedoes than navigation console."

Bones nodded, "We'll run through all that tonight-"

"No, if Joanna's here you should take the night off."

"If Joss will let me anywhere near her. She has the authority to block me."

"Welcome to Starfleet academy, where a word from the higher-ups will convince her it's not worth the pissing contest."

"Nobody gives a damn about this 'cept you and me."

"And Pike. I'm telling you, don't underestimate him."

Jim guided Bones to the lift, ignoring the disapproving glare the doctor shot him. Three floors was a long way when he was struggling just to walk naturally in a dress uniform laden with so much starch it could probably stand up on its own.

The minute they spent in the lift had to be the longest of Jim's life. Bones was fixated on the doors, leaning forward like a hound on the scent- he probably would have appreciated the comparison if Jim had dared to share it with him, but there was a quality to Bones' silence that warned him not to interrupt. By the time the doors swished open, Jim was ready to gnaw on his own nails if it meant breaking the silence even a little.

And then he realized it could get much worse.

Clearly Bones remembered this corridor; he made straight for the hallway that led to Pike's room, waiting only a split second for Jim to catch up with him before he started toward the office… only to freeze mid-stride as soon as he turned the corner.

The girl sitting on the lone chair outside Pike's office was very familiar indeed; Jim had seen her holo-image every day sitting on the corner of Bones' desk. She was much taller now, but the face was unmistakable.

Her dark hair was pulled back in a short braid, showing off those same sharp cheekbones Jim admired on Bones; in the fluorescent light he could see a tinge of sunburn spreading down her cheeks and across her nose, though fortunately she seemed to have inherited Bones' tendency to tan- curse them both for their good fortune.

The dress was a little out of place, after all the stories Bones had told him, he always pictured Joanna as more of a jumper sort of person, but today she was dressed to impress- and none too pleased about it if that glower was anything to go by.

"Jo." It was hardly any more than a whisper, but Bones' voice reached her even through the haze of her obvious distraction; Jim couldn't help but laugh at the speed with which she vacated her seat, flying across the checkered floor so swiftly her feet barely touched the ground.

"Daddy!" She smothered her cry, glancing back to the door with something like trepidation; Jim's good humor left him as quickly as it had come. He was more than familiar with the idea that children should be seen rather than heard, Frank had been a great believer in it. Clearly he and Jocelyn Darnell had that in common- another strike against her as far as Jim was concerned.

Bones opened his arms, catching her up in a rib-crushing embrace that lifted her off her feet and into his arms. Tall as she was, it couldn't have been easy, but Bones settled her on his hip as though she were still no more than the toddler in his holos.

"Baby girl."

"Don't call me that." It had the ring of an old argument between them, lacking any spirit, but familiar and comforting. Bones wrinkled his nose, pressing it to Joanna's playfully; Jim did his best to ignore the phantom ache that thoughtless, affectionate gesture provoked. Joanna settled her hands on Bones' shoulders, pushing back to get a better look at his face; Jim was certain he'd never seen Bones smile that widely, so he studiously avoided mentioning the dusty footprints Joanna's shoes were leaving on his recently-ironed pants.

"Mom's in there." Joanna tossed her head carelessly.

"Thought so. You'll want to stay out here while I talk with her."

"No I won't."

"Well you're going to anyway, and before you ask- it _is_ because I said so."

Joanna snorted, wriggling until Bones was forced to set her down. Her eyes turned immediately to Jim, sweeping up and down his figure until he was sure she could have listed everything askew on his uniform.

"I'm Joanna, and you are?" Jim was a little taken aback at the directness of the question; he'd expected coyness and shuffling feet, quick peeks from behind her father's back. This one was Bones through and through. She held out her hand as though daring him to shake it, head tilted while she awaited an answer.

"He's Jim, and mind your manners."

"Sorry." Joanna winced, "I said that wrong."

Jim couldn't have disagreed more; maybe it was the familiar McCoy mannerisms or just the simple fact that Jo clearly doted on Bones as much as he did her, but Jim took an instant shine to her.

Flashing her as dazzling a smile as he could muster, Jim bent at the waist, catching her hand and pressing a playful kiss to the back of it. The blatant shock on her features was enough to turn his smile genuine.

"Jim Kirk, at your service."

Joanna shook his hand firmly; meeting his eyes dead on she gave a mocking simile of a curtsy, stifling what he was sure would have been an impressive smirk. "I'll remember that."

Bones rolled his eyes, "Don't even think it, Joanna McCoy. Jim's wise to your tricks; I told him every one."

Judging by the unholy light in her eyes, Joanna had thought up a few more in his absence; Jim sensed a potential partner-in-crime.

!

!

Silence settled in the hallway, Len eyed Jim and Jo uneasily; she'd slipped her hand through his lightly, but she was smiling up at Jim like she'd found her new favorite uncle and Jim's baby blues were so wide and innocent it could only mean trouble. Leonard wasn't quite sure what had possessed him to put them both in the same room, between Jo's cunning and Jim's daring, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep up if they decided to join forces.

And he was pretty sure they had decided to join forces sometime between Jim's playful bow and Joanna's mocking curtsy. Who the hell had taught her that anyway? If Jocelyn was trying to shape her into a fluttering debutante she had another thing coming. Joanna had her heart set on being the 'fleet's youngest admiral this year, the year before last it had been an archaeologist, and the year before that had been the terraforming debacle when she had destroyed Jocelyn's garden. Nowhere in there did he see any sign of the future Jocelyn might want for her.

Of course, if he didn't step up to the line, he wouldn't have the authority to say any of that. Leonard's mind was officially made up at that moment; all that remained was to confront Jocelyn and see if they couldn't settle this with a modicum of civility. His credits were riding on a resounding "No", but a man could always hope.

"Jim, you want to stay out here with Jo while I head in?" Part of him hoped Jim would seize the moment to plot with Joanna now, part of him desperately wanted Jim to accompany him.

Still, when Jim shook his head and stepped back, Len found he was at peace. Confronting Joss alone would be his first step toward taking responsibility, and when all was said and done, Jim would be waiting for him when he stepped out that door again.

He squeezed Joanna's hand a little too tightly, nodded once to Jim, and stepped up to the door.


	13. Conflict of Interest

Leonard could swear he felt the skin-prickling chill of Jocelyn's regard the moment he stepped through the door; it didn't help that Captain's Pike glare shifted immediately to him the moment the door had slid shut. Leonard glared right back; he hadn't been the one to request this, and if Pike had ever bothered to ask him about Jocelyn's tendencies he could have warned him she always liked to steal a march on her opponents.

They were both scowling darkly, but in Len's professional opinion, Pike wore it much better; his expression had the weight of authority behind it. Though Pike was sitting casually while Jocelyn loomed across the desk, still he managed to convey the impression of absolute control over his surroundings. It was an impressive sight, and Len wondered what magic he could work in a captain's chair as opposed to being confined behind that desk.

"Jocelyn." Leonard tipped his head politely, proud of his composure.

"Leonard." Her tone was enough to freeze the blood, but she returned the gesture decisively. "I'm told I have you to thank for traveling all the way here-"

"That is wildly inaccurate, Ms. Darnell." Pike cut in, brooking no rebuttal, "You were informed that legal proceedings might be forthcoming and that you were to prepare to the best of your ability. It was suggested that if an agreement could not be reached outside court, you _might_ want to make arrangements to meet with cadet McCoy in advance of a hearing."

Leonard took a certain satisfaction in seeing Jocelyn visibly blanch; Pike's subtle lift of his brow suggested the thought had shown plainly on his face, and Len quickly smothered his malicious pleasure. He was on his own now, and that was the way it should be.

"I didn't think you'd care to air our dirty laundry in front of an audience" Jocelyn only frowned, "But if you insist, I'll be glad to start the conversation." Level tone, non-threatening body language, that was key. Len well knew Jocelyn's tendency toward exaggeration; he was grateful for Pike's presence if for no more reason than to have an impartial witness to this confrontation.

"This is about Joanna." Leonard felt a catch in his throat as his mouth shaped the name, his words trailing off into a softer register. "I'll be graduating soon enough, and I wanted this matter settled before I was given an official posting; I requested aid from Starfleet." It was true enough in its own way, and he was confident Pike's report would not contradict him.

"This 'matter' was already settled." Jocelyn bit out, "I have custody; you were not _fit_ to be a father-"

Len ignored the warning in her tone, "Not a fit _father_ and yet somehow fit to be a _doctor_? If I were unfit, my medical license would've been pulled long since."

"You and I both know that wouldn't be much of a stretch."

Pike's voice was quiet yet resonant enough to be clearly heard in the brief silence. "Cadet McCoy has an exemplary record to date, Ms. Darnell, and the respect of his peers and superiors. If you have any evidence otherwise, I'm sure Starfleet would be interested to hear of it."

Jocelyn met his eyes, taunting him with the weight of his secret, "No." The way she drawled the word made it sound as though there were layers of meaning beneath it; Leonard felt the blood rushing from his head and focused on breathing shallowly, determined to hide how much she had shaken him. He'd never guessed she would be so reckless as to even _hint_ at the past so blatantly; evidently, he'd managed to piss her off exceptionally well this time.

Honesty didn't suit her half as well as it did him though, "Look, Joss. I'd just as soon never see you again, but this business of keepin' me from my own kid is coming to an end."

"You were granted supervised visits-"

"On the condition that I contact you beforehand to arrange it. Little difficult to do with you blocking my comm signature, but there's more to it than that- it's the principle of the thing. You and I both know there's no reason to keep me from her."

Jocelyn's jaw flexed minutely. "Soon enough I'm goin' to be gone and she's hardly ever going to see me. Until then, I want the right to unsupervised visits. And when I have shore leave I expect reasonable accommodations to be made so that I c'n see her. And what the hell is this I hear that you're leaving her with your mother? The woman's half-blind and mostly deaf; she can't keep up with a little hellion like Jo, and frankly Jo deserves a chance to get to know _both_ sides of her family-"

"Off topic." Pike murmured for his ears, judging by Joss' thin smile, she had heard it nevertheless.

"My point is, I'm goin' for joint custody and there's an end to it."

Pike drummed his fingers softly on the table in what Len suspected might be a secretive round of applause. It almost thawed the cold lump that had settled somewhere in the vicinity of his heart when Joss had smirked at the end of his tirade.

"To summarize, _Leo_, you're contesting my decision to block you until Joanna's ready to speak with you, you maintain that you've done _nothing_ to merit the designation of 'unfit' and you would rather make me jump through hoops out of some spiteful need to retaliate rather than admit it's too much trouble for a promising medical cadet to arrange a little time off?"

"You're out of line." It wouldn't be fair to say that Pike yelled, Leonard was certain he was too unflappable for that, but his voice echoed in a way it normally didn't in the small space, both Jocelyn and Leonard jumped in shock.

Joss was the first to recover, softening her tone and throwing Leonard a pleading glance as though she hadn't just been threatening the very foundation of his existence not a moment ago, "She's happy, Leonard. For the first time in _months_ she's genuinely happy; she's making friends her own age, engaging with her course work in a way she hasn't since I can't even remember when; her scores are up and she hasn't spoken with a therapist since-"

"A _therapist_? She doesn't need a therapist, she needs her fucking father! What the hell did you expect? Sunshine and flowers and endless music the minute I walked out the door? You sent the _police_ to drag her out of my _arms-_"

"I didn't know what you were going to do! You were so angry, I wasn't sure how you were going to react! All I wanted to do was protect her and it was _all _I could think of-"

"She's my daughter, Joss. You knew damn well she was safe with me. Safer than she was with you bringing God knows what into our home. When I _think_ of what could've happened to her if you'd brought the wrong bastard home-"

"You're right, my taste in men was always _questionable_."

"Ms Darnell, are you confessing reckless endangerment of a minor?" Pike's eyes were sparkling with wicked humor, Len was glad his domestic drama was proving so very entertaining; he couldn't quite bring himself to be genuinely offended though- it was good to know there was someone that had his back for now. Had Jim taken lessons from Pike on how to look dangerously innocent or was it a skill Pike had picked up after too much exposure to Jim? A question for another day.

Jocelyn had paled prettily at the soft words, and damn her to hell because everything she did was still pretty and he still noticed it.

"I would never deliberately put my own child in danger-"

"By definition, that is a crime that does not requite intent, Ms. Darnell. Is this a prelude to a confession of negligence?"

Leonard was suddenly very glad he had never found himself on Pike's bad side. The man had clearly reached the end of his patience, and it was equally clear Jocelyn wasn't liking the taste of her own medicine.

"I am required by Starfleet regulation to notify you that I will be mentioning this in any reports I am forced to file regarding the content of this meeting if I feel it is relevant to your case."

"That is blackmail, Captain."

"That is standard procedure, Ms. Darnell!" This time Leonard managed to reign in his surprise so that he did no more than twitch when Pike finally snapped.

Joss only straightened her shoulders and met his eyes squarely, "Then I have nothing more to say until I've decided on a course of action." She turned to Leonard, still pale and shaken, but obviously recovering quickly. "We'll have to talk soon, Leonard."

"Yes, we will." Leonard snapped.

She had gracefully sailed out the door by the time Leonard had thought of a more cutting reply, and wasn't that just the way it always worked for him? He was desperately outclassed at Jocelyn's particular wordplay; Len had always preferred directness to her clever little games, just another level on which they hadn't been suited at all. Pity both of them had been too young and stupid and hopelessly romantic to realize it _before_ they had taken their vows.

"You should go after her, see if you can't steal a little time with Joanna before she goes seeking accommodation." Leonard thought he saw Pike roll his eyes slightly, but the act was accomplished so quickly he couldn't be sure it wasn't a trick of the light. "I'm sure Jim is faithfully keeping watch outside; he probably won't let her pass until you've given the go-ahead."

The last thing Leonard needed right now was Jocelyn screaming false imprisonment because his best friend wouldn't release the kid to her custody. He careened out the door with no further urging, all too ready to do battle again.

!

!

Panic set in pretty much the moment Bones stepped out of sight into the Dragon's Den. What did one do with kids anyway? Weren't they supposed to be energetic or curious or something? Jim could relate to that easily, it was his go-to modus operandi, but Joanna McCoy wasn't pestering him with questions or begging him to play while her fate was being discussed just beyond that door.

In fact, she was standing precisely where her father had set her down, hands clasped tightly at her waist, swaying slightly from side to side as though dancing to a melody only she could hear. It had been so much easier to speak to her when Bones had been hovering nearby, beaming contentedly at the two of them and sharing those adorable "See? This is my baby" looks with him over her head.

Her conspiratorial smile had vanished the moment the door had slid shut behind Bones, replaced with an expression Jim was pretty sure indicated curiosity, but couldn't be sure because wasn't she supposed to be asking him questions or something? He'd give his right eye for a hint of what she was looking for-

"How long've you known my Dad?"

There it was, Jim knew this routine well, having subjected many adults to it in his time. "Long enough to meet his bad side a time or two." He smiled self-deprecatingly, and relaxed when Joanna smiled back, hands falling to her sides.

"Are you friends?"

That was as good a term as any other, "Yeah, I think so."

Joanna nodded, "He thinks so too. I can tell." That was always good to know. If she'd been a little older, Jim might have been tempted to grill her a little more on the subject of how she knew Bones thought so too.

"I want to ask you a question, but I don't want you to tell dad because he'd only tell me he'll explain when I'm older."

"Then I think you should save it for when you're older."

Joanna rolled her eyes, and it was so _Bones_ Jim's heart melted and pooled somewhere near his feet. "I'll never be old enough to ask him and get an answer. Are you my dad's boyfriend?"

Holy shit. Was he that pathetic or did Joanna McCoy just have some sort of awesome sixth sense? More importantly, how was he supposed to answer that loaded question?

"Well, uh-" Years. It had been years since he'd last been caught flat-footed with nothing to say. Oh and now the blush he could feel heating his ears, coupled with Joanna's hugely satisfied grin wasn't helping him any.

"Thought so."

"Whoa no, you got it wrong kiddo. We're friends. Just friends." _For now_ Jim added in the privacy of his own thoughts, watching her suspiciously for any signs of a previously latent telepathic ability. It could happen. Theoretically.

"Oh." Joanna sighed heavily.

"We're _best_ friends." Jim added, hoping to liven her up again. Success! She perked up immediately and Jim felt his own lips curving into an answering grin.

"Good enough, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I hoped you were dating; then he would stop thinking about mother." Ah. That was telling, a 'dad' and a 'mother'; it was only slightly better than having a 'mom' and a 'Frank'.

"Trust me, most of the time he's thinking about you."

Joanna blinked quickly, Jim was pretty sure she was trying to get rid of a little extra moisture and tactfully glanced away. Damn it, he'd meant it to be reassuring, not painful.

"A _therapist_? She doesn't need a therapist, she needs her fucking father!" Jim winced, seeing the motion mirrored by Joanna's wilting form. He could only imagine how loud that outburst must have been to penetrate the reinforced door. Fuck. She was going to cry and he just didn't know what to do with tears; he'd always been more prone to making trouble than indulging in them.

Without really thinking about it Jim reached out and did exactly what he wished someone had bothered to do with him before he stopped giving a damn. Joanna squeaked softly when he yanked her into his waist, burying her face in the uniform's rough material and covering her exposed ear with his free hand.

That seemed to be her cue. Jim winced as the first sob wracked her thin frame; how the hell had he failed to notice how frail those shoulders were? Bird's bones, he was terrified to squeeze too tight lest he break her, but her arms had snuck around his waist and were currently forcing all the air from his lungs. She was no slouch in the muscle department, so he simply tightened his grip and let her soak his uniform, not saying a word when she turned to gasp open-mouthed for breath.

He pulled away gently, biting his lip at her distressed whimper. "S'all right, I'm not going anywhere." Damn, where were the kerchiefs when he needed one? Technically he was supposed to keep one tucked neatly in his uniform, but who actually followed that old custom any more? From now on, James Tiberius Kirk would he vowed.

Joanna hiccuped softly, holding her breath to stop the involuntary sobs and trying without success to erase any trace of the tears in her eyes. Fuck it, what were sleeves for except getting rid of evidence?

She gasped with surprise when Jim shrugged his hand as far back into his sleeve as the cut would allow and brushed it across her face, coming away covered in wetness and a little slime that he didn't care to think on too much.

"You're going to ruin your uniform." She huffed quietly, still trying to get her breathing under control.

"Nothing I can't get off." Jim drudged up a reassuring smile from depths he didn't even know he had and quietly backed away, seeking out the little potted plant just at the corner of the hallway and making a show of wiping his sleeve on the leaves. He was rewarded with a stifled, watery giggle that made it worth the chewing out he would get if someone took the time to watch the security footage and took exception to his treatment of what was doubtless some kind of special species found only in some remote part of the galaxy.

He stalked back to Joanna quickly, kneeling to be on a level with her and pressing her shoulders reassuringly, "None of this is you. It's all them. Don't ever think otherwise, all right?"

"Dad says it's 'cause he loves me. Mom does too." Spoken in a shameful little whisper.

"Well that's their choice. Besides, isn't it just a little cool, having parents that love you enough to start another Intergalactic War just for the honor of your company? You drew a lucky card on that one, even if it doesn't particularly feel like it right now."

"I just don't understand why they can't just share me then."

Out of the mouths of babes. Bones was going to have to hear some of this as soon as they had a moment alone, and in such a way that Joanna wouldn't hate Jim for telling.

"I think-"

Th door slid open and Joanna spun, both of them holding their breath.

The woman that stepped from the room was everything Jim could learn to hate; tall and svelte and so self-composed Jim was fairly sure it would take the apocalypse to knock that confident expression from her features.

Or maybe just the sight of her little girl fraternizing with enemy. That too pale skin flushed red when she noticed Joanna standing stiffly in front of Jim, puffy-eyed and obviously just recovering from a fit.

"Joanna, are you okay?" She leaned down and held out a hand, eyeing Jim like he might snatch up the kid and run at a moment's notice. Jim didn't want to like anything about her, but he had to respect that look; it said clearly if this mess was his fault there would be hell to pay.

Joanna nodded, giving Jim a quick one-armed hug before breaking away.

"Where's Dad?"

All the gentleness and concern of a second ago evaporated, replaced with a carefully neutral gaze and a positively venomous tone, "He's busy."

"Never too busy for you though, baby doll." Bones just barely managed to smile by the time Joanna glanced back at him. The door slid shut behind him before Jim had a chance to sneak a look at Pike.

"Don't-"

"Call you that. I know."

"If you know, then why do you keep upsetting her?" Jocelyn hissed. Leonard declined to answer, and Jim could only stare incredulously, was she deliberately being obtuse or had that hot Georgia sun fried her brains that she couldn't see this was old hat?

Either way, Jim found himself battling an entirely inappropriate wave of protectiveness. Bones was a grown man, and he would know Jocelyn McCoy's tactics better than anyone; if he thought it was better to ignore her than fan the flames, Jim would follow his example.

Bones carefully avoided mentioning Joanna's red face as he hugged her tightly, locking gazes with Jocelyn over her shoulder. "It's been a while since I've seen Jojo. Why don't you take the time to find yourself a room somewhere and I'll keep an eye on her while you're gone?"

"I don't think-"

Joanna pulled back, "Please?" And there went Jim's heart again, breaking quietly at how sincere that simple little word was. If Jocelyn whateverthehell ignored that, Jim would be morally obligated to damn her to perdition about a dozen times over.

Evidently Bones was thinking the same thing if that rictus of a snarl was anything to go by.

"Fine." Hearing the sharpness of her voice, Jocelyn added a quick, and considerably gentler, "Yes."

Jim tried backing away slowly, opting to give them a little time alone, but Bones caught his eye and motioned for him to stay. Uncomfortable, but not quite certain how much more obvious he could make it, Jim settled for obeying the mute request-command. He couldn't be entirely sure which it was meant to be; Bones looked far more stern than Jim had seen him since that whole rugby incident.

Had that really been only a month ago? It felt like lifetimes.

Jocelyn turned back, the surprise on her face enough to justify Jim's decision to stay, "Who are you, if I may be so bold?" Her tone suggested _he_ was the one being entirely too bold.

Bones closed the distance between them in a few long strides, hooking an arm around him casually. "This is Jim."

Jim promised himself Bones would never know how his heart did that funny little skipping thing when Bones said it that way. He'd heard that note in his voice only once before, when Bones had pointed out Joanna in that little holo.

Of course, three years down the line at the _Enterprise_ Holiday Jamboree Jim would completely break that private oath when he over-indulged in egg-nog and decided to serenade the crew with a few romantic ballads dedicated to Bones over the PA system, making mention of that funny little skipping thing no less than a dozen times in the space of about three songs. The whole crew agreed it was better than Lt. Riley's rendition of"I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen," but Bones would never let him forget the incident, claiming that somehow Jim had managed to make "All I Want for Christmas is You" his favorite song in less than one off-key and slightly slurred verse.

Scotty and Uhura would valiantly contend that "Winter Wonderland" had been by far the more striking number, probably because he'd been warbling it at roughly the moment Bones came barreling out of the turbolift, blushing profusely with good spirits and no small amount of embarrassment.

"Jim, this is Jocelyn." What was he even supposed to say to that, "Hi" maybe, or "Your loss, my gain," or "You're a trip, you know that?"

"Hello." It was the safest option, but now both Bones and Joanna were looking at him like he was a few ships short of a fleet.

"You replaced me a little quickly, almost makes me wonder if I wasn't the only one dabbling."

Bones tightened his grip unconsciously, grinding his teeth. "Don't start this here, Joss. We'll both regret it." He looked pointedly at Joanna, and Jocelyn's eyes widened slightly at the open outrage on Joanna's face.

"I'm sorry." Grudgingly given, but spoken none the less. Jim chose to hold his silence, letting her know exactly how much he cared about her opinion or apology.

Bones waited until she'd hurried off down the hallway, glancing back them only once as she began to descend the stairs.

"Don't let it get to you, Jim." He murmured, pulling Jim in a little tighter for a split second before letting him go.

If Bones could have seen the look that passed between Jim and Joanna the minute his back was turned, he would have known it hadn't exactly been perceived as an insult, more of a suggestion.

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And with that, let the fun begin. :)


	14. In Good Company

Joanna was smirking at him again, legs wrapped firmly about her father's waist, skirt rumpled and crushed until Jim was sure someone so… demanding as Jocelyn would throw a fit the moment she saw the mess Jo had made of her good clothes.

Neither Bones nor Joanna seemed to particularly give a damn; Bones was smiling so wide Jim could hear it in that gentle southern lilt that was becoming steadily more pronounced the farther they roamed from the administration building.

Joanna had her head propped on her father's shoulder, ear turned up as she listened to stories about harmless pranks and those few times Bones had deigned to participate in extra-curricular activities not related to academia. Jim beamed contentedly, pleased at the number of times his own name featured prominently in the narrative: "Jim and I did this," or "Can you believe Jim said this?" Then Bones would laugh and Joanna would tighten her grip on his neck and wrinkle her nose in an expression Jim took to mean amusement.

Somehow Bones' stories were always a little different from the way Jim would have told them. Instead of extolling the virtues of Jim's failsafe plans and glorious victories, Bones spoke of harebrained schemes that somehow panned out through sheer luck and brazenness. To hear Bones tell it, he was some sort of demented hero on par with Don Quixote, but far more fortunate in his choice of companion.

Joanna's eyelids were drooping, lulled by a combination of warm sunlight and her father's voice she was obviously finding it difficult to muster even the energy required to hum in agreement every few sentences. Yet somehow she still found the strength to smile slyly at Jim as if to say, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Jim only smiled back, admittedly a little strained; he felt like an intruder, insinuating himself into places he didn't rightfully belong. He had tried bowing out gracefully, but Joanna had shot him such a pleading look and Bones had been so appalled at the suggestion of his departure that somehow he had found himself trailing along for what was supposed to be a tour of campus but was rapidly devolving into aimless meandering. Did Bones even realize they had passed that hedge at least three times already? Was he deliberately walking in circles or was he so thoroughly besotted with the idea of spending time with his little girl that he forgot to pick a destination?

Carefully, ever so carefully, Jim began to subtly maneuver him toward the storage hangar; though long since decommissioned, there were a few odds and ends in there that would keep even he occupied for a few days. Joanna seemed like the type that could appreciate a few outdated feats of mechanical engineering.

"Is she sleeping, Jim?"

Jim's gaze shot to Joanna's face once more; her lips were still curled in a positively catlike smile, but Jim wasn't sure if that fluttering eyelid was involuntary or meant to be a wink. As if sensing his quandary, she opened her eyes swiftly and shut them again just as quickly. A wink, then. Jim feared for Joanna McCoy's future enemies; she was going to grow into a devious opponent indeed.

"She's exhausted." Not quite lying, just not volunteering the whole truth; Bones would insist it was a lie of omission, but Jim was willing to risk setting his dress pants afire if it meant gaining Joanna's trust… and bonding a little more with Bones if he were going to be entirely honest with himself.

"No wonder, poor kid. Those transports take it out of anyone with half a brain. Death traps- only marginally better than the damn transporters; I don't see why we can't all use a da-" Bones swallowed the word, tried again- "A darned grounded transportation system."

"Mass transport of the kind you're suggesting would mean a not inconsiderable expense for Starfleet."

"Don't get smart on me, Jim." Bones' easy grin took any rebuke from the words. He hiked Joanna a little higher, tightening his grip slowly.

"She's gettin' so big. Won't be long now before we're eye to eye; won't be much longer before I can't hold 'er like this at all." He sighed deeply. "She'll probably be glad of that. Can't exactly call her my baby girl anymore then I suppose." Jim stifled a fond grin as Joanna's fingers curled further into Bones' uniform, eyes scrunched shut determinedly.

"What d'you say we take 'er on back to the dorm for a bit? 'S probably been ages since she had an actual meal, and fast as she's growing, she really shouldn't be skippin' em."

"Sounds great, Bones." Ah hell, that sounded far more tender than acknowledging; Bones' eyes widened slightly, glancing at Jim over his daughter's dark head. Jim cleared his throat and raised his voice, "I'm starving too, what's for lunch?"

"Haven't got a clue, why do I have to make all the important decisions around here?"

"Because if you left it to me, we'd still be eating peanut butter sandwiches and cheese rinds for supper?"

"There _is_ that." Bones muttered, wincing at the thought of the last time he had left Jim to fend for himself in the kitchen.

"Fine. Curry, I think. Jojo likes her spicy food and Joss can't stand the stuff; it makes her sick as a dog every time." Jim pretended to ignore the hint of malicious satisfaction that flitted across Bones' face for a fleeting moment, followed closely by guilt. Poor man couldn't even enjoy a few minutes spitefulness without his conscience catching up; then again, Jim couldn't really complain, that was part of what made Leonard McCoy _Bones._

Jim had to swallow a remark concerning Bones' preference for spicy or sweet; worse, it was clear from his chiding expression Bones had caught the gesture and divined its significance. Jim grinned sheepishly; it was a new experience, having little ears nearby.

Bones snorted softly when Jim offered him a half-apologetic look, though what he was apologizing for he couldn't be quite certain, especially when Bones looked reluctantly amused-

"Jim, Leonard!" Both turned, watching as Gaila trotted toward them, took in the child tucked against Bones and hesitated.

"Gaila." The tone was eager; doubtless Bones was glad for another chance to introduce his pride and joy. Joanna was finding it impossible to 'sleep' any longer, she twisted to get a look at the woman that had dared to call her father's name. Jim nearly laughed aloud at that wide-eyed look of shock when she took in the green skin and bright hair wonderingly.

Gaila winced, "Sorry, didn't realize there was company." She beamed at Joanna, earning a shy nod in return. "Just wanted to let you know Uhura's going to be presenting her paper Friday evening, we're going out afterward…" She trailed off, eyeing the two of them expectantly, "You're invited, unless you're busy?" She glanced quickly to Joanna.

"Jim has a date with the Maru-"

"No need to be jealous, Bones. You're still my chaperon, remember?"

Bones shook his head despairingly, "Jim has his test Friday and I have mine Monday; I think we have to pass."

Jim could see the moment Bones realized he'd spoken for both of them; a light blush settled charmingly over his cheekbones, "And I do mean the royal 'we'." A flustered Bones was a rare sight indeed, and more than a little endearing. Jim took a moment to appreciate the view, ignoring Bones' pointed glare.

Damn. Gaila was looking at him with mute pleading; it _had _been awhile, but then Pike had said he wasn't permitted off campus. That alone wouldn't have stopped him even a semester ago, but a lot had changed this past month. He didn't want to spend Friday in a bar with a host of drunken cadets and music loud enough to drown out his own thoughts; he'd rather curl up with Bones on the couch and watch some horribly melodramatic vid the two of them could nitpick to death. Besides, Bones was probably going to want to critique his test-taking method.

Jim was all about constructive critique.

Still, he'd been keeping Bones all to himself lately; the poor man had to be craving some time alone. "Yeah, tell Uhura I'll be there."

Gaila's face lit up brilliantly, "Well, she doesn't exactly know yet; I'm going to spring it on her as soon as the presentation is finished. You'll be seeing her before then; isn't she supposed to be helping out with your test?" Her smile turned sly, "In fact, why don't _you_ tell her?"

"Because I don't have a death wish. How's that for an answer?"

"Good grief, the two of you are a perfect match; seal the deal already." Bones rolled his eyes, completely ignorant of the dismay and panic that flashed across Joanna's and Jim's faces.

Gaila barely stifled a wicked cackle, tapping Jim's shoulder affectionately. "I wouldn't have him, McCoy, and I doubt he'd have me either" Seeing the telling smirk she flashed at Bones, Jim shot her a quelling glare. He couldn't exactly step on her toes without drawing undue attention, and Bones would probably let him have it for 'attacking' a lady anyway.

In typical Gaila fashion, she had dismissed him entirely, focusing instead on the puzzle of Joanna. "But who's this?"

Bones drew himself to his full height, lips curling up into a lazy grin as he prepared to introduce Jo, but she beat him to the punch by the barest second.

"I'm Joanna." Subdued and cautious, Bones jostled her slightly, nose wrinkling with chagrined amusement. "Pleasure to meet you, miss Gaila." That seemed to be all the boldness she was capable of today, she'd already buried her face deeply in her father's uniform, peaking out as color rose to the very tips of her ears. Bones shook his head, sharing a commiserating look with Jim.

Blushing sympathetically, Gaila glanced away, clearing her throat nervously. Jim nearly laughed aloud at the picture they made: Bones trying to coax a few more words from the child clinging to him like a teddy bear, Gaila desperately pretending she was shy so as not to further embarrass Jo. He could appreciate the effort, but someone was going to have to break the impasse.

"You mind if I drop by later tonight, go over some of that stuff we discussed?"

Jim willed Gaila to take the hint, but she frowned perplexedly. "Stuff? You mean like-"

"The Maru, Gaila. Stuff about the Maru."

"We don't-" Comprehension dawned and Gaila pounced on the lifeline with all the enthusiasm of a drowning woman. "Kobayashi Maru stuff. Of course." She tapped her head playfully, "We do need to talk. Tonight would be good for me; I should get going if I'm going to be seeing you tonight anyway. Right, Jim?"

Jim winced sympathetically; now she had him blushing too, and there was no way Joanna was going to believe the two of them were some of Starfleet's brightest. Even Bones appeared to be split between genuine concern and merited bafflement.

"Tonight. And tell Gaila we'll be there for her presentation. _Not_ the Royal we."

"It's restricted to linguistics-"

"We'll be there." Jim winked, ignoring Bones' much put-upon sigh.

Gaila nodded reluctantly, "Then I guess I'll just see you there."

With a final curious glance at a quiet Joanna, she took her leave; bounding off almost as quickly as she had appeared.

"Wish I had half her energy." Bones shook his head, "A quarter, even."

"She's green." Joanna whispered; she sounded… delighted? "How is she green?"

"That's natural pigmentation for an Orion, honey. And what're you doin' cutting up all shy? I should send you with Jim this evening-"

Joanna squeaked involuntarily, startling a laugh from Bones and Jim both. She glared them down with all the dignity she could muster, wriggling until Bones finally set her down.

"Would you?"

"No. You need to get back to your mum sometime tonight."

"She'd leave me if you asked."

"She wouldn't. Trust me, I've known her longer than you have. I figure we've got a little over three hours before I need to have you back."

Wordlessly, Joanna held out a hand to Jim, eyes sparkling with wicked mischief. Intrigued, Jim wrapped his fingers about hers and squeezed, putting his question in to his eyes in a way he hoped she would understand. No sooner had he done so than she was reached for her father's hand. Jim's lips twisted with bittersweet pain when Bones' hand swallowed hers, swinging it playfully.

"Now that you're awake, what do _you_ want to do? I-"

"I thought we were going to eat? You promised curry." Bones' gaze turned suspicious, frowning down at the top of her head until she smiled back disarmingly.

"Thought you were asleep for that." Bones grumbled, "Ruined my surprise."

"To be fair, Bones, that was kind of your fault." Jim could feel the residual tension flowing away; it was rather hard to feel like an outsider when Joanna had dragged him so gently into this domestic scene.

It was plain she wasn't about to let go, either. He could feel his fingertips prickling from her death-grip; evidently she hadn't liked it when he had tried to playfully yank his hand away.

"Just whose side are you on, Jim? You're living with me, remember."

"In _my_ dorm, if memory serves."

"Since you wrecked mine." Bones finished.

"Accidentally or on purpose?" Sharp. That was the word for Joanna McCoy.

"Accidentally on purpose." That was a story he was pretty sure Bones wouldn't want to explain to his kid just yet, much as it might make for an amusing tale later.

"Jim likes playing with wires. Especially when they aren't his to play with."

Joanna winced, "Ouch."

"Ouch?" Bones stumbled, "Joanna Elizabeth McCoy, what have you been up to?"

"It was an accident! I won't do it again!"

On second thought, Jim was pretty sure he was in good company.

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This chapter is weird because it's really only half a chapter. I just realized I hadn't updated this in nearly a month and felt a little awful.

Anyway, this week is Midterm Hell, but I will try to have the rest up (with extra) by next weekend. :)

Good luck to everyone else stuck on the same boat, and I hope this lightens the burden a little!


End file.
